


Flowerpot

by notcrindy



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, Nonbinary Frisk, Selective Mute Frisk, floweypot - Freeform, floweypot au, idk how to use this tag system guys
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-30
Updated: 2017-01-09
Packaged: 2018-09-13 07:06:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 36,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9111850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notcrindy/pseuds/notcrindy
Summary: When Frisk drags Flowey against his will up to the surface, he's totally against it. After all, people are such irredeemable idiots, and life seems so stale... ...until he gets an intriguing offer from an unexpected source, anyway. What happens when he learns that life isn't nearly as predictable as it seems? Post-Pacifist. Floweypot AU.





	1. Prologue

Somehow, it had happened.

The human had done it. Flowey was free.

It was, in truth, idyllic. Almost sickeningly so, actually. Despite all of his bluster and bravado, he’d always counted on this. He’d always assumed that eventually, the human  _ would _ prevail; after all, the human’s SOUL was so powerful, and they had so much determination. A being with that much willpower… ...wasn’t easily dissuaded. He knew better than anyone. He  _ counted _ on it more than anyone.

He knew what could happen if Frisk were to attempt to RESET.

Still, there was one thing he didn’t count on. It was so obvious, what he’d planned to do all along, and yet… he’d been apart from it. He would’ve hated to admit it, but this was one thing for which he hadn’t planned. He remembered what it had felt like, absorbing the SOULs, so much power coursing through him… He remembered what it had been to be nearly a god, beside himself with rainbows and the delirium of a physical form. 

He remembered what it felt like to  _ feel  _ again. Not only those ever elusive and pesky  _ emotions _ that monsters and humans alike seemed to be rife with, but what it was like to have a body. He remembered feeling all their love at once. To his own disgust, he didn’t  _ just _ remember what it felt like to be the ultra-powerful and prismatic God of Hyperdeath; he remembered what it felt like to be himself again. So small, so weak, so prone to crying and sweetness. He remembered the way he wanted to separate himself from what he was now. He remembered how fleeting it was, and trying to hold on again to that feeling…

Marvel at your paws.

Wiggle your toes.

Tend to the flowers…

...before you find yourself among them.

Of course, he’d expected to just stay there. Wait for Frisk to become so dissatisfied or angry or hurt at some point and -- the  _ click _ and  _ whir _ of time as it hummed back into place and step. Until then, well, he could amuse himself. He’d planned to just sit in silence there.

They wouldn’t let him.

Damn it, Frisk.

Frisk had been the one, of course, who was so insistent on bringing him along. He’d been all settled in and ready to grow with bitterness again, adjusting to the numbness the flower form brought, when they’d taken him with them. The first to greet them every time, and the last to go up with them out of the Underground and into the sun.

Everyone was gone except for Toriel by the time they got back up.

“Are you sure about this, my child?” Toriel murmured.

He saw the way her own eyes were straining against the light. So many of them had to readjust to the sight of it, or had never known it at all, and he could tell it was difficult on her. But beyond that there was a certain apprehension to the way she looked at him, a fear. She was worried he’d mess it all up again.

Still, Frisk nodded their head. He tried to risk a glance up at them to see how  _ they _ were feeling too, but Frisk was Frisk. It was impossible to tell what was going on in that kid’s dumb mind, half the time. Just smiling and squinting out into the sunlight like this was their reward, this was what they wanted all along… Grasping him tightly, like he was an old friend, and not an old foe.

“If that is what you want, then I will have to trust you.”

Now Flowey was staring out at the sun. It made him feel… ...different. Sure, humans could probably wax poetic about that thing or whatever, but he didn’t mean it  _ that _ way. It could extinguish right  _ now _ for all he cared; he had no emotional attachments to it. But it felt good through his whole body, in another way. It felt like something he had needed all along, too.

He resolved to hate it.

“Hey,” he blurted out, “don’t  _ I _ get a say in all this?”

“But Flowey,” started Toriel, her tone still uncertain. “Where on Earth would you go?”

He made direct eye contact with her.

“Someone’s got to take care of all those flowers,” he said.

She blushed like she’d done something wrong. It delighted him.

But Frisk shook their head. Despite everything, it was still them, and they were beaming. It was almost sickening to watch, on par with the sun staring them down in the distance. He had to get out of here.

“What are you  _ talking _ about?” Flowey spat. “I have to go back!”

Frisk tilted their head to the side inquisitively.   


“Because!”

Their eyebrows raised.

“I just have to, okay?”

They were unflinching and stubborn as always.

“You don’t understand,” Flowey grumbled. “Just  _ let me go! _ ”

“Frisk,” Toriel tried, gently, “perhaps we should listen to him.”

They held the flower pot tightly.

“I can’t be here! You can’t do this!” He was wiggling around, thrashing now. “I’ll hate it here! I hate all of you!  **_I won’t fit in here!! I’ll kill you!_ ** It never went this way, this has never happened before--you’re not supposed to do this and I  _ don’t know what to do _ \--”

But Frisk was looking at him with the most sympathetic eyes. They were squinting against the sun they claimed to love so much, but they were also all focused on the tiny flower’s form, taking in all of his words and trying to understand. Trying to be nice. Trying to show him--

“Ugh,” Flowey muttered, going slightly limp. “Well, I have nowhere else to go.”

“Very good,” said Toriel, although she didn’t think so.

“Do  _ you? _ Do  _ you _ have anywhere else to go,  _ Frisk? _ ”

Toriel was looking at him with blatant disapproval, but Frisk only tightened their grip.

They smiled.  



	2. Chapter 1

The move was mostly just tedious. They’d looked at houses, all being sold by blatantly uncomfortable humans who all had the same fidgety body language. They’d taken house tours all led by those same humans, who clearly hadn’t anticipated any monsters who only used gold coins as currency to be interested in their homes. Flowey would’ve been content to just stay outside, but of course Frisk had insisted on carrying him in  _ every single time. _

No one else  _ wanted _ to carry him because they weren’t idiots. They’d all learned over the course of numerous encounters with Flowey to keep their distance, which was just how he liked it. But of course, the human was always so eager to do it, picking him up and giving him his own personal tour of every single house. When the process started, he was determined to hate everything about every house.

“No,” he’d wail dramatically, as Frisk picked him up. “Don’t you  _ dare, _ Frisk! I don’t want this! I hate it already! Don’t you have any respect? Are you even  _ listening _ to me? No!  _ Noooo!! _ ”

Once they were inside, there were a few options he preferred.

Option one was, of course, to keep hating everything instantly on sight. It wasn’t the perfected, cooly detached hate he’d learn to cultivate in situations like these, and he felt more like a cornered animal the first few times he did it. Still, it was something, he guessed.

“You can’t  _ make _ me do this,” he’d remind everyone within earshot for the thousandth time in a row. “I may be just a flower, but I have  _ rights,  _ you know! I won’t even  _ look _ at this house. Do you hear me, Frisk? I won’t even  _ look _ at it. I won’t even…”

The first time, a human had been staring at him.

“What are you  _ looking _ at, you stupid bag of bones and flesh? What’s your  _ problem? _ ”

It wasn’t a human like Frisk or Chara had been a human, and perhaps that was the most threatening thing of all about this world. He hadn’t had much room to think about it before, but all of the humans he’d ever met had been one type of human. Something small and malleable, something gullible and stupid… ...something that felt like another something he knew a long time ago. This was more like another type of human, that he only remembered because they...

...well, they...

...and he…

...and  _ Chara. _

“I’ve never seen a talking flower before,” it murmured. Awe was in its voice, but it was very adult. It took a few steps towards him, slow and deliberate, and Flowey flinched before he could realize what was happening.

“ _ Fuck off _ ,” he snarled with all the venom he could muster.

To his satisfaction, it flinched too.

Toriel had been very careful about entering the house, so as not to startle this thing, but poked her head in once she’d heard the commotion. Her steps were slow and soft on the hardwood floor, and she sounded embarrassed. “Ah, yes, we apologize for him. He doesn’t have the best manners. Frisk, why don’t you take Flowey back outside while I introduce myself?”

“Yeah, Frisk! Get me  _ out _ of here.”

But Frisk merely shook their head and stepped out of the living room, flowerpot still in hand.

“ _ Augh. _ What, do I have to say ‘please?’”

This time, they gave no indication they’d heard anything, staring out at the kitchen.

Flowey sighed. “ _ Fine _ ,” he hissed, rolling his eyes. With a little bit of willpower, he distorted his own features until his face resembled something close to his old one, all innocence and crocodile tears. “‘Please, Frisk,’” he trilled obnoxiously, imitating his old voice almost perfectly. “‘Please, use your stupidly human arms and legs to get me out of this stupidly human house before I stupidly wilt and die! You’ve successfully reached your end goal without killing a single person and it makes me nauseous, so let me go back to the Underground, where I can wait for you to tire of this timeline in peace! It’s the only thing left for either of us to do!’”

Frisk didn’t even bat an eyelash, setting him down nonchalantly on the granite countertop without being able to see what they were doing. They were quiet and thoughtful as they stared at polished wooden cabinets and floors, looking contemplative as they stood on their tiptoes to get a better look at the kitchen sink. Occasionally they’d even make a slight  _ “hm” _ noise, stroking their chin as if considering something very important.

“Come  _ on, _ Frisk,” he groaned. “I don’t want to play ‘house’ with you!”

He saw the glimmer in their eyes when they turned back around after eyeing the fridge and regretted it instantly. “Wait, wait--”

It was too late. Frisk had their grimy, grubby little human paws all over everything all over again, holding him up to look at that same fridge on tiptoes and giving unhelpful “hm” noises. 

“What are you  _ doing? _ What do you hope to accomplish like this?  _ Why? _ Put me down!”

The human child lowered him to a more manageable height, then looked pointedly at him, continuing to stroke their chin. They inspected the fridge as thoroughly as they could, making those noises again, and then after a moment of deliberation they gave it a thumbs up. They did this several times, glancing back at the flower each time to see if they understood.

Flowey stared at them blankly. “What? I don’t get it.”

“Hm.” Thumbs up.

“I don’t  _ have _ thumbs, you idiot. I can’t do that back at you.”

Frisk only shook their head. “Hm,” they repeated, somewhat firmly. They looked as though they were considering something again, then gave a thumbs up after their consideration. They turned, inspected what they could of the counter, and gave  _ that _ a thumbs up. They continued to do this until they reached the sink, staring at Flowey and waiting.

“Hm,” they said.

“Oh,” he said as it all clicked. “You want me to give  _ my _ opinion of this sink?”

They nodded.

“Frisk, that’s so dumb. Why are you like this?”

“Hm,” they said again.

“Okay, well,” he sighed, “I obviously think it’s stupid. Like everything else here. Can we  _ go _ now?”

They shook their head. “ _ Hm _ .”

“If you keep doing that, I really  _ will _ kill you.”

They were still staring at him. He knew what they wanted this time. 

He sighed. “ _ Hm, _ ” he managed, looking as thoughtful and considerate as he could. “I’ve been thinking, and I think this sink is human garbage. It’s  _ worse _ than human garbage. It’s  _ terrible. _ It’s the worst sink I’ve ever seen. Nonexistent thumbs way down. Are you  _ happy? _ ”

Frisk nodded gleefully, giving him his own personal thumbs up.

“Good, now wh-- _ AUGH. _ ”

He moaned in protest as Frisk moved on with him to another room.

“I don’t even need most of the items in this house!”

After a while of spitting and moaning to Frisk personally, it became clear that he needed another method. Something that couldn’t be so easily thwarted by Frisk and their blatant… ...well, Friskiness. So his next option was plain and simple.

He didn’t look.

He’d shut his eyes as they met human after human, moved from room to room, and whined obnoxiously about it the entire time.

“Nope, nope, nope!” He’d shriek with a loudness that nearly put Papyrus to shame. “I’m not looking because this whole thing is  _ stupid!  _ I’m not looking!”

Others around sighed with exasperation, the appropriate response to something this annoying, but Frisk remained undeterred as usual. They just moved serenely from room to room as if they didn’t hear or care, the flower in their arms making a big show of seeing literally none of it.

“Frisk, why don’t you take Flowey  _ outside, please, _ ” Toriel suggested again, her tone slightly crisp in a way he appreciated. He could tell from the tone in her voice that he was putting a wrench in her unbelievably naive plans to live happily ever after together as a family, and it satisfied him greatly. The human beside her was seeming just the right amount of uncomfortable, too, with every word it spoke.

Good.

“I ‘unno, Tori,” came a deep voice from behind her. “Seems like Frisk shouldn’t be hanging out with such a  _ bad seed.” _

In a moment that broke the tension completely, she laughed.

A chill of absolute hatred filled him down to what would probably be his guts or something (if he had those), and he recognized the source of it. There was only one voice that could fill him with this amount of sheer repulsion as soon as he heard it, and it was enough to get Flowey to ruin his own plan and open his eyes to verify it.

Yup, there he was, sauntering over to Toriel with a mischievous glint in his eye (or whatever you could call that flicker of something within his empty eye sockets). He was already comfortable making himself at home here, to Flowey’s disbelief, and he smiled and shook the human seller’s hand lazily. “Oh, sorry, hi. I’m Sans.”

“‘Sans the Skeleton,’” Flowey mocked under his breath.

“That’s me,” Smiley Trashbag confirmed, smiling crookedly like he’d just made some kind of successful attempt at humor. “You don’t have to worry about this little sapling, Miss. He’ll take a  _ lichen _ to you eventually.”

As if looking at some invisible camera, he winked. Flowey shuddered. “You think you’re so  _ clever, _ ” he mumbled.

“Well, I’m not the only one.”

Toriel was stifling laughs. “Oh, Sans! It’s so good to see you again.”

“Likewise,” the skeleton echoed back. “But your voice sounds a little gruff.”

“Uuuuuuugh,” groaned Flowey.

“UUUUUUGH,” agreed an incredibly loud voice outside of his field of vision.

This, too, was enough to get Flowey to turn his attention towards the source of the noise. It wasn’t at all surprising that the insufferable skeleton had brought his almost insufferable brother along with him; what was more surprising that Flowey nearly found himself relieved to see someone sort of tolerable. In his own way, of course.

“Papyrus,” he chirruped, hollow and saccharine. “Buddy! Howdy!”

He relished in the glare Sans shot at him without even looking at it.

“Golly, it’s been so  _ long! _ ”

“ER,” stammered the tall skeleton, as he ducked inside to take a look at everything. He looked more uncomfortable to see his flowery friend than usual, to be sure, but underneath all that he was still the same gangly and socially clueless dope Flowey had always known. They’d all been so eager to discard the lives they’d led before in favor of something new and better above ground, but he was the exception, as always. He still wore that same dumb outfit, even with no hope or existence of a Royal Guard anymore; he still wore that same dumb smile, regardless of how horrible the human lifestyle seemed to be; he was still trying to legally obtain his driver’s license, despite the fact that he couldn’t actually drive. He was probably even still making that putrid pasta of his. It was almost charming. “I… I GUESS IT HAS.”

“How are you, friend?” Flowey hummed along, delighted to play this little game again. “I bet you’re just impressing humans left and right with your skills, huh?”

“WELL, OBVIOUSLY.”

“So what are you into these days? Still cooking?”

“YES, OF COURSE I--”

“Oh, there’s no need to be modest. I bet you’re just a regular pasta  _ whiz, _ by this point!”

“WELL, I--”

“How’s the Flowey Fan Club coming along? Any new members?”

“ABOUT THAT,” Papyrus finally managed to spit out, looking so ashamed that it nearly brightened Flowey’s whole day. “I… ...SOMEHOW DOUBT THAT… THE CONTINUED EXISTENCE OF THE FLOWEY FAN CLUB IS WITHIN EVERYBODY’S BEST INTEREST.”

“What?” Flowey feigned absolute surprise and tried his best to look hurt. “No! I can’t imagine why.”

“YOU… ...REALLY CAN’T?” Papyrus’s surprise wasn’t faked at all, and that was the best part. To the skeleton’s credit, his eyes were narrowed as he tried to figure out the intent behind the words. That was a smidge self-aware, and it was more than Flowey would’ve ever expected from him. “I KIND OF DOUBT THAT, TOO. IN FACT, I’M PRETTY SURE I CAN ARRIVE AT THAT CONCLUSION WITH NO OUTSIDE HELP WHATSOEVER.”

This was the perfect time to break character, a horrible grin spreading across his face. “Wow, maybe you  _ have _ learned something from all this, Papyrus! I’m impressed.”

“...YOU ARE??” His eyes were genuinely eager, or what could be considered his eyes anyway, and Flowey nearly chuckled with genuine amusement. So many things about these familiar friendly faces had grown so stale, but Papyrus still managed to stand out from the rest of them even after he grew bored, and it was refreshing. It seemed to click, still, which felt so new it made him giddy. “...WAIT A MINUTE. NO. THAT’S NOT A REAL COMPLIMENT AT ALL, IS IT?”

Flowey giggled boyishly. “Why don’t you figure it out yourself? I know you can! You’re so smart, after all.”

When Sans elbowed his brother slightly, Papyrus got really wise to everything, and so this was the end of the game. Flowey was familiar with the sensation; people were so fun to play with, especially in the beginning when everything was still so new, but every game had to come to an end eventually. Sometimes they’d die, sometimes he’d exhaust and extract every bit of dialogue he could possibly stomach, sometimes everything would wind down to a sort of natural end. It didn’t matter. This game always had a short shelf life anyway, as long as Sans was aware of it, and he’d always seemed to be.

Papyrus cleared his throat, or something close to that (but for skeletons), in an attempt to preserve his perceived dignity. “IF THAT WERE A REAL QUESTION,” he started, as loudly and definitively as he could, “WHICH I KNOW IT’S NOT, I WOULD TELL YOU THAT I’VE PRETTY MUCH ALREADY FIGURED IT OUT.”

“...You sure?” Sans was about ready to murder him, but he couldn’t resist it.

“YES. I KNOW THAT REALLY, YOU HAVE TO PRETEND NOT TO CARE ABOUT ME AFTER ALL THAT WE’VE BEEN THROUGH FOR THE SAKE OF SPARING ME FROM MY OWN CONFUSION, AND DEFLECT YOUR CARE FOR MY WELLBEING THROUGH SARCASTIC AND BITING COMMENTS. IT’S OKAY BY ME. BUT JUST SO YOU KNOW. YOU’RE A FLOWER, NOT A CACTUS. YOU DON’T HAVE TO BE SO PRICKLY!”

Ah,  _ there _ was the Papyrus he knew. What a relief.

“Boy, that didn’t go over your head at all,” he said sweetly.

“I KNOW. THINGS RARELY DO,” said Papyrus. “I’M ALWAYS SO QUICK TO CATCH THEM FIRST.”

“Mhm.”

Sans was the one to break things up next, and his glower was ghastly. “Uh, hey, Bro, speaking of being quick to catch on to things, have you noticed Frisk is here? Bet they’d appreciate a proper ‘hello’ from us.”

“THAT WAS A CONVOLUTED WAY TO SEGUE INTO IT, SANS,” noted Papyrus, “BUT OF COURSE I’VE NOTICED! I WAS MERELY WAITING FOR THE OPPORTUNE MOMENT. HELLO, HUMAN! WE’RE HAPPY TO SEE YOU AS ALWAYS.” He kneeled down to their level.

It was the first time in a few merciful minutes that Flowey had even thought to consider the small Frisk, who was still clutching his flowerpot and grinning widely. The tiny human was such a good listener, and so willing, that they always found it in themselves to sit and watch pointless exchanges like this unfold. It was pathetic, really.

“He’s right about that, at least. It’s good to see you too, Kiddo. Can’t say that for everyone.”

Flowey grinned.

“ANYWAY, TORIEL, CONGRATS ON THE HOUSE! I HEAR UNDYNE AND ALPHYS HAVE FOUND SOMETHING, TOO.”

“We’re just here to make sure you get settled in okay,” Sans clarified as he looked around. “I can see why you picked this place, though. Looks pretty  _ homey  _ to me.”

“SANS!! THAT WAS TERRIBLE.”

“Why thank you.”

Flowey could only roll his eyes for what seemed like the billionth time that day. “You know what? I’m closing my eyes again. This isn’t worth it.”

To his disgust, Toriel was still beside herself with laughter. She was such an enabler. “It’s so kind of you both to offer your help,” she managed, “but we haven’t actually decided on a house yet. We’re just looking around.”

“I’m not,” Flowey declared loudly as he shut his eyes again. 

“We  _ know, _ ” Toriel sighed. “Frisk, can you  _ please _ \--”

But Frisk was already moving blissfully on to the next room, not a care in the world.

As they left, Flowey cracked an eye open. The human seller was as white as a sheet.

He stuck his tongue out as it watched them go.

Surprisingly, refusing to look didn’t have the effect he’d wanted. He noticed that the more he did it, the sicker everyone got of him announcing it as much as he could, but that was it. The tours of the houses didn’t stop, the ultimate goal of living together as one horrible family unit didn’t stop, the endless parade of uninteresting and terrible humans didn’t stop. He hadn’t truly foiled this whole ridiculous notion after all, and so he set about scheming for another way.

He began to see, during the rare moments he opened his eyes, that monsters and humans seemed to value matters of opinion in the same way. From the way all of them had been ogling every monster that came their way, he would’ve thought that they saw a monster’s opinion as something so beneath them, but it wasn’t that way at all. When Toriel made comments, they paid attention; they even seemed to  _ want _ her to purchase their outdated homes.

He saw, too, that  _ she _ valued what  _ Frisk _ thought about it. This struck him as terribly unfair because he was going to be living there too, but it was something he paid rapt and close attention to every time it happened. They’d be strolling through some form of human dwelling, and he’d be pretending not to look, and she’d ask them. “What do you think of this kitchen?” She’d inquire politely. “Does it seem nice to you? What do you think of this living room? Is it… ...well, roomy enough? Could you see yourself sleeping in this bedroom? Oh, dear.”

Frisk being Frisk, they’d make that same show of it. “ _ Hm, _ ” they’d say, and then give a thumbs up.

“Oh, good,” Toriel would affirm, reaching out to ruffle their hair. “Very good. I am glad to hear it.”  She’d ask the skeletons whenever they were around, too, and he couldn’t imagine why.

He was even more baffled when she started to ask him. “Oh. And you, Flowey? What do you think?”

The first few times, he just sputtered. After that, he became used to the question, at least enough to disregard it entirely. “I wouldn’t know,” he’d remind her, “because I’m not looking.”

Her exasperated sigh became music to his ears (he didn’t have ears anymore -- why did he always do this to himself?). “Yes, I suppose I should’ve been aware of that.”

“You really should’ve,” he’d spit with glee, and the conversation would be over.

Eventually, she stopped asking for his opinion at all. He imagined it was something like he’d endured back when he RESET, asking the same questions and getting the same results. It thrilled him to think that she was going through anything close to what he had, over and over again. Frisk would have understood this feeling, if they allowed themselves to, but they approached things so hideously differently than he ever had. He was alone in this, and though it made him feel smug, even he grew bored of it and realized it wasn’t getting him anywhere.

He decided that, since everyone seemed to value opinions so much, he had to get some. The only way he could possibly put an end to this madness was to make it  _ seem _ like the awful idea it was, and to do that he had to make the environment look absolutely unlivable since everyone still wanted to live with him no matter how wretched he was. This time, when Frisk picked him up, he was without complaint. Even Toriel eyed him suspiciously as they made their way inside.

“Are you here to see the house?”

Immediately in his face: more adult humans. This time, he steeled himself against them, resolving to do what he’d thought was impossible. If it meant being kept out of their revolting living areas for good, he would try his very best to pull this off. He stifled every urge to flinch or shake as he stared both of them down.

“As a matter of fact--” Toriel began. He was quick to interrupt.

“We  _ are!! _ ” He scraped together every bit of forced cheeriness he had just for that one phrase, trying to come across as so friendly that maybe even the Mad Dummy would be thrilled to befriend him. “Howdy! I’m Flowey. Flowey the Flower. You’re new to the Under--”

Oh, oops. Wrong script. Off-script. Wait.

They were looking at him curiously. He backtracked before Toriel could get a word in.

“Um, I mean… ...well, that is my name, and I’m just  _ tickled _ to give my  _ real actual opinion  _ of this lovely home! Golly, what a place.”

He hadn’t even looked at it yet. He hadn’t broken eye contact.

“Okay,” said one of the humans, after a moment. “Well--”

“I’m a talking flower, though. Isn’t that just  _ strange? _ ” He was grinning so much it hurt.

“We suppose, but uh--”

“And she’s a goat! I mean, crazy, right?  _ Just too much. _ We monsters haven’t been around humans much since we came  _ up from the depths, _ but we’ll be nice neighbors!” He put on his best smile, practically glowing and personable all at once. “We  _ promise. _ ”

“Flowey--” Toriel tried, but he was unstoppable.

He felt Frisk’s eyes on him. He didn’t care, obviously.

“We may have different definitions of the word ‘nice’--”

“ _ Flowey-- _ ”

“--but you’ll be able to put up with loud noises, right? What are a few bloodcurdling human screams between neighbors--”

“ _ Flowey-- _ ”

“--if you’re  _ lucky, _ we might even invite you to our human barbecue next--”

“ **_What’s up, punks?!_ ** ”

Everyone started at the sudden loud outburst and turned in its direction. 

There in the doorway she stood, grinning from ear to ear. Undyne the Undying. Admittedly, he’d had less of a problem with her than he’d had with the Smiley Trashbag, but she was still almost unbearable to beat once he’d started slaughtering everybody, and overly loud no matter what he decided to do. Her stupid human TV schtick grated on his nerves, too. Still, it wasn’t her or her miserable and destructive cooking that he found  _ really _ repulsive, she just had such a terrible taste in--

“That’s  **_right!!_ ** ” She exclaimed as loudly as another person possibly could. “Alphys and I are here to help! Lucky for you, we know all about buying a human house already, so we decided to come over and keep you from totally wrecking your lives by picking the wrong one. Isn’t that great?!”

Was it possible for a flower to twitch, or did he imagine it?

“It’s wonderful, dear,” Toriel intoned politely. “We’d appreciate any help. This has been quite the adjustment for all of us.”

“Haha, I bet! Don’t worry, though. This’ll be easy.” She was still beaming with too many teeth, all of them pointed and primed to rip him to shreds. He knew because she’d done it before, multiple times, to protect all that she loved. It was almost sickening how willing she was to stand in the way of absolute destruction, and she often believed in her friends so much she’d smash rocks. What a weird thing to do. “Alphys, get in here!! We have to offer our expert advice.”

There was that weird movement again. Twitch, twitch…?

“Oops, sorry,” came a voice from outside, cracking as it tried to project. “I--I’ll be in in a minute! Um. I’ll be there in a second! I mean, I’m coming! Right now.”

“Um, hello,” said one of the humans.

“ _ No, _ ” Flowey growled. Once all eyes were on him, he tried to salvage his plan, all bright and sunny smiles. “I mean, I haven’t even gotten a chance to tell you about  _ so many other _ delightful and equally bloody aspects of our culture, and it’s  _ so _ important for us to--”

“Hey, Human!! I’m Undyne, and--”

“I’m here! I mean, I’m in here. I mean, hi. I’m--”

“--this is Alphys,” Undyne finished, smirking as she put her arms around her considerably shorter companion. “She’s kinda shy, but she’s all right! We’re both just here to see our friends.”

Twitch. Twitch.

“Uh, yeah,” her reptilian companion stammered. “Of course we are! We--we want to help in any way we can. I just--I haven’t been around many humans, and--it’s not quite what I exp--I mean, I’ve just seen mostly animes of--I mean… ...I mean? We already have a house?”

One of the humans laughed kindly. “That’s all just fine. We know you monsters have resurfaced very recently. It must be quite a shock to you. Although…” They glanced at Flowey. “I’m not sure what your flower friend’s been trying to say.”

“Oh, Flowey’s a character, that’s all! My child Frisk was just about to show him around to other areas of the house.” She was giving Frisk a look that suggested this action was not optional, sterner than was usual of her.

Flowey barely noticed. His eyes were on Alphys, now.

“Oh,  _ him? _ ” Undyne scoffed, laughter in her voice, arm still around Alphys. “Don’t pay any attention to what that stupid plant says. We’re all really fantastic! He’s just jealous.”

Blink, blink. Twitch.

“Y-Yeah,” Alphys stuttered. “That flower is really, um…”

“ _ You. _ ” The word came out as venom. The word came out automatically. They’d all turned to look at him again, but he was just focused on her sweaty yellow dinosaur face. Usually he had careful control over every single one of his facial expressions; it was a learned habit or maybe a trick, something he’d learned to pull with too much practice. Right now, he didn’t know what expression he was making. He had no idea what he looked like.

“Um.” She was still breaking out in such a disgusting sweat. Monsters were so terrible that way. “Who… ...me?”

Despite the inquiry, she had guilty eyes. She always had those. “ _ You. _ ”

“Um,” she sputtered again. “I--I don’t know what you’re--”

Just like that, he was serene and smiling again. “You know what you did. We  _ all  _ know, don’t we?”

When Undyne saw her girlfriend was red in the face with tears, she intervened as usual. “Hey, you  _ creep, _ leave Alphys alone!”

“She doesn’t  _ deserve _ it.” He laughed, but differently.

“Well, if you keep talking like that,  **_you’ll deserve my fist in your face!!_ ** In fact,  **_YOU ALREADY DO!!_ ** ”

“Undyne,” Alphys forced herself to say in spite of all the chaos. “Undyne, no! It’s--it’s okay. I--I get it.”

“Huh?” That got even her to stop for a moment. “Are you just gonna stand there and let him  _ talk about you like _ \--”

“Listen,” Alphys murmured, her voice still wavering with anxiety. “No. I get it. Thank you for trying to defend me, but I… I understand. Okay?”

“But I can’t just--and  _ he _ can’t just--”

“No, I… I have to own up to it this time.” She took a deep breath in, not quite daring to look directly at Flowey (the coward), but daring at least to stand up a little straighter. “I have to admit that I’ve made mistakes. And um… ...pretty big ones. I mean, I’m helping Toriel today, but she fired me. F-For a good reason! But she still…”

She took another deep breath in.

“Listen, I can’t ever truly make up for what I did, but we… ...we didn’t go through all that for nothing, did we? I’m learning. And if you can’t forgive me, it’s okay. But all we can do is try our best.”

“I told Papyrus, you know,” he sang. “Papyrus knows what you did.”

There was a moment of silence, and it stung her. He could tell.

“E-Everyone knows now,” she said, softly. “But maybe, if I try, I can--”

“ _ No, _ ” he hissed. “ _ No. _ Don’t you get it by now? Life isn’t a fairytale.” His voice felt far away and dark, but there was some part of him that smiled nonetheless, unaware of the surroundings and fueled only by the glee of watching her fidget.

“I know, but--”

“Dr. Alphys, or should I say  _ former _ Dr. Alphys… ...do you really think that just because we’re living on the surface now, you’re forgiven?”

“I forgive her,” interjected Toriel as forcefully as she could.

“We  _ all _ forgive her,” shouted Undyne, “because people make stupid mistakes sometimes! That doesn’t make them terrible! Right, Human?!”

“Um,” said a human seller.

“Not  _ you, _ ” sighed Undyne, before pointing a dramatic finger at Frisk. “Them!!”

Flowey knew Frisk was nodding in that silent, peaceful way, and he hated them down to their fragile little bones for it. He thought so often about snapping every single one of those bones, and exactly how it would feel for them. He entertained the thought so much of vines and thorns wrapping themselves so tightly around their throat, cutting off all the air supply. He thought so much of the day, finally, the  _ one day _ when they’d finally call for help to find that nobody came. He thought of it now, as he looked up at their face. They were visibly uncomfortable now.

Part of him enjoyed that. Most of him couldn’t.

“So what,” laughed Flowey, somewhat hysterically. “Barrier’s broken, human’s adopted, and suddenly everyone’s mistakes against the entire world are erased? Suddenly it’s  _ okay?  _ No! It’s never okay!”

Everyone was silent for just a moment. Flowey was focusing all of his rage on the very thought of this room, this life, these people.

“It’s  _ never _ okay,” he screamed, “and it’s  _ time you learned that!! _ ”

Once again, he felt Frisk’s eyes on only him. Once again, he couldn’t care.

“Why won’t any of you  _ learn? _ Why are you all so  _ stupid?  _ I don’t  _ get  _ it!!”

None of them were responding to him anymore. He didn’t know what he looked like.

“I just don’t understand,” he started.

Alphys was looking only at the floor. Undyne was giving her a reassuring hug. It was awful.

“I--I’ve killed all of you,” he howled. “I’ve killed every single one of you  _ more than once, and I’ll do it again!! I’ll do it again and again!! I’ll do it a million times!! I’ll do it  _ **_more_ ** _ than a million times because I  _ **_like_ ** _ it-- _ ”

“Frisk,” said Toriel gently.

She didn’t have to explain. They were already walking away, flowerpot in tow.

“I  **_like_ ** _ it, _ ” he screeched. “I’ve seen all of you bleed, and I  **_like_ ** it!! And you wanna hear the worst part??”

The human sellers were even more horrified this time.

“ _ Frisk knows!! _ ”

This time, they went outside with him and shut the door.

He was still laughing when they sat on the front porch. Frisk was calm and steady as ever, but there was a sort of differentness to the way they carried themselves as they set the flowerpot onto the concrete steps. As they sat beside him, they twiddled a blade of grass in their fingers, looking contemplative.

He laughed. They waited.

Humans went by in their cars. They waited.

They kicked the dirt as they waited. Too gently. 

Stupid Frisk.

“Well,” he said after his cackling had died down, “I guess that got the job done, huh?”

They stared at him with clumps of grass in their hands. 

“There’s no  _ way _ the humans will want us to live near any of their kind now.”

Their gaze was unflinching, like most of their mannerisms were all the time.

“What, are you disappointed?” Flowey scoffed. “You _brought me up here,_ Frisk. Do you really expect someone like _me_ to just allow you to have a happy ending? After all we’ve been through, is that what you really expected from me? You don’t know me at all.”

Frisk started to shake their head, then stopped and watched the scene up above. Earth coated their fingers and made them wretched, but they still felt it so softly in their hands, like it was something brand new. Flowey wondered how anyone could do that, live among things like this for so long and experience the same dead ends he had and feel this way. He resented it even as he stared out at the sun, looking as though it were being tugged down by other bits of different colored sky.

He’d seen that a few handful of times already.

“Why, Frisk,” he wondered. “Why do you  _ care _ so much? Why do you bother?”

The human child was just looking silently out into the sky. Probably the same sky they’d seen a million times. Probably the same grass underneath their feet a million times. Probably the same human world they’d always seen before they fell Underground a million times. Cars all looked the same. People were all the same fleshy weird beings. But they were in awe of the way the sun looked up above and wore it so clearly on their face.

“Why, Frisk,” he said aloud again. “Why did you bring me here? I didn’t want to go.”

No response.

“Is it because you liked  _ him?  _ That cry baby goat? Because he’s not here. It’s just me.”

The human had spotted something off in the distance. By this point, they’d started to get up and walk towards it. When they picked it up and brought it back, plopping themselves back down on the pavement, Flowey understood why.

It was a stick. They’d relied on those for safety before.

“He’s not coming back, Frisk. Does that make you unhappy?”

It looked like they weren’t even paying attention now, taking the stick and dragging it horribly across the concrete. If he’d had any use for the sensation beyond physical displays of disgust, Flowey might have shivered at the sound, but he was too preoccupied with it all. The stupid grass, the stupid stick, the stupid Frisk, the stupid sky. All of it added up to a world he shouldn’t have inhabited. All of it added up to nowhere he wanted to be.

“Do you  _ miss _ him? Is that it? Why?”

Scrape, scrape, replied the stick.

“He doesn’t miss you, Frisk.”

Scrape.

“He doesn’t even think about you anymore.”

Scrape.

“He’s  _ dead, _ Frisk. Dead, dead,  _ dead!! _ Is that what you want? Some  _ closure? _ ”

Scrape, scrape, scrape, scrape--

“Frisk, are you even  **_listening to me?!_ ** ”

His voice was a little louder than he’d intended it to be, and even Frisk was slightly taken aback, gripping the stick with shaky hands. That at least brightened his sour mood slightly, and he wished he could see Frisk this way all the time. Afraid and alone, armed with nothing but a stick, even at home. Even in a place they were supposed to be the safest. He relished in the feeling, but it was gone as quickly as it came.

Once they’d calmed themselves, Frisk took some of the grass and sprinkled it over him, smiling slightly mischievously. It was just the worst. “Ew, Frisk, you  _ sicko!!  _ I’m a  _ flower!  _ Don’t cover me with dead grass, that’s just--”

This only resulted in more grass, and he could hear the child humming.

“No!! Gross!! Stop it!! That’s  _ so _ \--”

“Frisk, is everything all right?” Toriel was emerging now, looking clearly alarmed. He’d guessed that maybe shouting “dead” over and over outside in a crowded neighborhood, even in the human suburbs, probably wasn’t great. It was only fitting, though, that he’d make trouble here too. “He’s not hurting you, is he?”

“Yes,” Flowey lilted.

“I know you are fibbing,” Toriel responded sternly. “I can see you.” She was behind them both now, towering above.

Frisk was still happy to see her nonetheless, and got up to give her a hug. Flowey made gagging noises as he looked away. Watching how much genuine affection Frisk gave almost everything and everyone in their path was almost offensive. He turned his gaze towards the sky out of desperation and found it considerably darker than before.

“Well, obviously, Miz Toriel,” he jeered, “I meant emotionally! I’ve just crushed their spirit.”

“Has he, Frisk?” She asked, somewhat jokingly. “You do look so distraught.”

Ugh, she wasn’t supposed to play along. He frowned.

Frisk grinned and shook their head.

“Well, I’m very glad for that, my child.” Her voice was warm as she pulled them close. “It’s always such a relief for me to see that you’re all right.” Even with her fur probably getting in their mouth, they smiled and nodded with their face pressed up against her.

Flowey moaned. “Ugh, I didn’t want  _ this… _ You two are disgusting.”

“Well, that is just too bad.”

“You do know that if I  _ could, _ I’d--”

“Yes, Flowey. I do know.”

“So why are you allowing this, then?” He looked up at her. “You know what I’d do if I could to all of you. You definitely know that I’m thinking about it right now, at least. How badly I want to watch you all  _ die _ , over and over again...” 

He saw the way her feet shuffled awkwardly. 

“Even worse, you  _ know _ how much I  _ hate  _ Frisk, so why would you allow this to happen?”

To Toriel’s credit, she gave it a moment of silence and actual thought. He didn’t quite expect that. “Well, Flowey, I suppose it’s very simple. I trust that Frisk brought you here for a purpose, and would not bring you here to cause us any harm.”

“But  _ why? _ Look at them. They’re a pipsqueak.” He gestured to the human child, who was nestled up against Toriel’s fur, drowsy now. “How can you trust them to make any big decisions at all? How could the fate of the entire world rest on  _ that? _ ”

“On me?” Toriel echoed playfully. “I’d say I make a decent pillow.”

Frisk nodded slowly.

“You  _ know _ what I mean,” he said.

“Yes, I do,” she murmured softly as she cradled Frisk in her embrace. They were nearly sleeping now, barely upright and struggling to keep their eyes open. What a wimp. “But I’ve drawn another conclusion, too.”

“Yeah? What’s that?”

“If you could hurt them, we wouldn’t be here,” she said.

The stars were out now. 

These were one thing from above ground that he’d always known about, even Before. As far as he could tell, they always remained the same too in some strange and stupid way, constants in even the constellations of this ridiculous world. He’d heard things, even, about most of them being dead and almost forever away, but who really knew? Something about them had certainly enchanted monster culture, enough for them to stick around and be emulated in the Wishing Room in Waterfall, but monster culture was so easily enchanted. They were always so sentimental and prone to making up dumb holidays and things like that, so you could never truly trust what impressed them. It probably got boring seeing the real stars, too, after you had a few times. Flowey was keeping track of how many times he looked up to see that same sight, speckles of not-really-diamonds.

“I guess that’s true,” he conceded. “But you know the deal this time around, right?”

She had gently scooped Frisk up to carry them now, and they were sound asleep. They shouldn’t have been small enough for her to do that, but there it was, and they looked so peaceful. So vulnerable. Their guard was so… ...down. It would’ve been wonderful if he could’ve done anything with that. 

“What is that, Flowey?” Her voice was so soft now.

“If you’re wrong, it’s on  _ you. _ It’ll be  _ your _ fault this time.”

Her silence satisfied him enough.

“Say.” He broke the silence. “Are we going to be living here?”

“No, Flowey.” She sighed. “That one is your fault.”

“I know. I just wanted to hear you say it.”

They went back to looking at stars.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that's all for today, folks! Sorry if I overwhelmed you with too much at once. I'll avoid that in the future. Prologue was just too vague, and I still have no idea what I'm doing. Thanks again!


	3. Chapter 2

When Undyne finally emerged from the house, she was holding Alphys’s hand with a tightness that probably would’ve hurt almost anyone who wasn’t an actual lizard. Flowey was quick to note how angry she looked, practically trembling with rage. After enough times of seeing that look in much more dire circumstances, he’d learned to pick up on it pretty quickly, so that he could shield himself from attacks when needed. As always, she just looked so _dramatic,_ and Alphys looked deeply ashamed.

“Undyne and Alphys,” Toriel reacted with surprise and stated the obvious. “Are you all right? You were both in there for quite a long time.”

“Who cares,” Flowey muttered.

“Who _cares?!_ ” Undyne echoed back at him with what was clearly all of her fury, though the flower couldn’t help but think she’d just be glad to know her ponytail was blowing dramatically in the wind. “Who **_cares?!_ ** I’ll _tell_ you who cares, you little flower freak! I spent all this time in there trying to convince those humans not to listen to someone as awful as you, but they wouldn’t even hear it! Now, who knows how this stuff works!! They might even tell other humans about _us._ Are you happy now? Are you _happy?!_ ”

He listened to her patiently and smiled. “Yes. Very, in fact! We’ve had such a nice night out here, Undyne. I’m sorry you can’t say the same!”

Her right eye twitched. “Why, I oughta--”

“Undyne,” Alphys whispered. “Maybe you want to quiet down?”

“Why?? So I can spare this pathetic plant’s _feelings?_ He was even worse to you!”

“No, Undyne, look,” Her partner tried again, pointing a claw outwards. “Frisk’s sleeping.”

The fish paused in her frothing rage to take a glance at Frisk, still in Toriel’s arms. “Oh,” she said, and then after a moment, “whoops. Sorry. Guess I got carried away!”

“Oh, we all did, do not worry about that,” Toriel waved it off. “It’s been a long day for everyone.” She glanced at Flowey.

But Frisk was already stirring again and rubbing their eyelids, coming to terms with the world before them instead of the world inside their pesky little pebble dreams. “Mm.”

“Um… ...sorry if I woke you, Human. Frisk.” Undyne apologized awkwardly, clearly trying to whisper while not quite knowing how. Flowey was certain that if she were capable of it, she’d be producing a single sweatdrop. Then again, maybe Alphys did most of the anime sweating for both of them. “Did… did you have some good dreams, at least? You look so weak when you sleep! In a good way.”

Frisk nodded, still slightly burrowed into Toriel’s fur while giving another thumbs up.

“Th-that’s good,” Alphys stuttered beside her.

“Yeah! That’s great.” Undyne flashed a wide smile, before looking somewhat irritated again and kicking a little at the ground. “Hope you guys can at least find a human house soon. Sorry we couldn’t be of more help.”

“Please, do not worry yourselves. You did the best you could, and it’s not at all your fault.”

“I guess not,” grumbled Undyne. “Still sucks, though. But hey! If you want, we can come over another time to help some more. Before you move or when you move in or whatever. Right, Alphys?”

“Um,” she said, “yeah. Sure.”

“I am certain we’d appreciate it.” Toriel’s smile was so warm and real, it was almost terrible.

“Good! Well, anyways, it’s getting kind of late, so maybe we should--”

“Invite you to stay,” Alphys blurted out. Everyone stared as her face flushed and she cupped her own hands over her mouth in disbelief. “Uh, well, I mean,” she continued on, “it’s just… You guys are our friends, and you obviously need a place to stay, and uh. I was just thinking that… ...maybe you’d like to… ...stay with us until you figure it out?”

“Alphys.” Undyne put a hand on her shoulder and looked her deep in the eyes.

Alphys gathered herself, then hung her head in shame. “I know, it’s--”

“That’s _such_ a great idea!!” Undyne all but shrieked into the night. “This way, we really _can_ solve your house problem, and you can be eternally grateful to us for being the best friends EVER!! Told you your ideas are awesome.”

Alphys was still blushing. “Well, I mean, sometimes they’re okay. Not always.”

Flowey caught her glancing at him, and was too dumbfounded by this sudden change to say anything. There were no words yet. It would catch up to him in a minute, but for now, he was trying to even find it within himself to bear sharing any kind of space with these people. Maybe he’d run away. Bolt in the night. Technically he couldn’t because he was a powerless flower on the surface, but it wasn’t like it was an _impossibility,_ right? Maybe? Could he get Papyrus to sneak out and--

“Oh, no. We couldn’t possibly impose.”

“Psh, you’re not imposing at all! This is just what friends do for each other.” Undyne’s grins were so authentic sometimes they took up her entire face. “You remember when I stayed with Papyrus, huh? And that lasted for SO LONG.”

Frisk was agreeing eagerly. They’d even perked up a little just to let everyone know what a good idea they thought this was, bobbing their head up and down. It still hadn’t registered with Flowey at all.

“Well, if you all think it’s such a good idea, then…” Toriel gazed down at the positively beaming Frisk, still clinging to her for warmth. “Then I suppose it must be.”

“ **_YEAH!!_ ** ” Undyne shouted. “That’s the spirit! Where have you guys been staying, anyway??”

“Oh, just a motel,” Toriel confided, her tone sheepish. “Just until we get our bearings. They’re quite lovely people, but I don’t think they know what to think of monsters like us yet.”

“That’s understandable, I guess,” said Alphys quietly.

“Are you serious? That’s _SO STUPID!!_ ” Undyne yelled at the exact same time.

They paused just to gaze into each other’s eyes. It was obvious that they were smitten with one another, and it would’ve been revolting had Flowey been able to pay any type of close attention. As it stood, the sweetness went largely unnoticed; it was mostly dwarfed by the possibilities of the moment at hand, and he didn’t say anything.

“Well, you don’t have to worry about us! We’re so much better than some random humans, anyway.”

“Are you _kidding_ me?” He finally asked, all but spitting the words out onto the ground. “ _Please,_ don’t tell me you think this is a good idea. _Please,_ tell me no one’s considering this after everything that just happened. I mean, I know you’re all complete idiots, but you can’t possibly be _this_ stupid. Right? Right??” He glanced at Frisk for validation and got no response.

Frisk finally shrugged, looking somewhat apologetic.

“Yeah, see, even _Frisk_ thinks this is--”

Something was wrong.

“It’s--”

He tried again.

“It’s,” he said.

“Uh,” he said.

He wasn’t outside anymore.

“Where are we,” he murmured, dazed.

He could recognize the strange, silvery light spilling into the setting. He could recognize Frisk, giving him that bashful smile. He recognized what was a sleeping bag on the floor, if somewhat vaguely. Everything else remained a mystery, and the surroundings were strangely unfurnished and empty with the exception of a few boxes. If Flowey had a real body with a SOUL, he might’ve hovered outside of it just to take this all in.

“Frisk,” he tried, distant. “What is this?”

They wouldn’t meet his eyes, but after a second, they gave a thumbs up.

“ _No,_ ” he whispered.

Thumbs up…?

“ _No._ ”

Thumbs--

“Flowey,” Toriel interrupted everything with her ridiculously maternal voice, as usual. “Are you feeling better? I thought I heard your voice. You’ve just been quiet for so long, looking as though you’ve seen a ghost. I hope rest will help.”

“Am I feeling _better?_ How can I be feeling better if I have to do _this?_ Have you all completely lost your minds? I can’t _believe_ this.”

“I am sorry you feel that way,” Toriel replied calmly, and he could tell that she was coming in because she was concerned for the human child and not him. She was here for Frisk, and he was only secondary to them. Ever since they’d Fallen Down, it seemed to be this way. “But Frisk has been kind enough to allow you to stay with them in here, so you will not be alone. If you cannot quiet down, we will have to take you somewhere else.”

“Yes,” he pleaded. “Just get me out of--”

“... _In the house,_ Flowey.”

It hit him with a sudden and awful clarity. They were stuck here. No… ...that wasn’t quite right. It wasn’t that _they_ were stuck here. It was that they all wanted to _be_ here, in some sort of sick gesture of camaraderie, while _he_ was stuck here. It was more than unfair. He’d always expected that enough of them were idiots, and surely they _were_ dumb enough to think that this would be a good idea after everything that had happened, but that almost made the whole situation worse.

If he’d had any of the powers he’d had Underground, he could’ve _done_ something about it. Brought huge, creeping and crawling vines up out of the earth to put a stranglehold on them all until they reconsidered. Killed every single one of Frisk’s loved ones until they had no choice but to RESET. Killed Frisk themselves, all of their loved ones watching with horror as this timeline and their hopes and dreams died right in front of them. He’d watch them struggle for the MERCY button, the FIGHT button, the ACT button, anything they could get their hands on to help them…

...and it wouldn’t be enough. They’d die.

RESET.

Of course, there was an issue. They’d probably just RESET to the moment before they left the Underground, flowerpot in tow. Maybe he could convince them that it was a bad idea to take him along at least, that he’d never give them any peace until they left him to rot in the flowerbed where he belonged. But maybe they couldn’t be persuaded. He’d killed them _so many times before,_ after all, and they’d _still_ somehow arrived at the conclusion that he was better off with them. It probably wouldn’t even do him any good. Maybe Frisk was beyond help.

It didn’t matter, anyway. It wasn’t even a possible scenario. It wasn’t just that he was out of the Underground, away from any usual earth he might’ve used to take them down. It was something they’d done shortly before they’d taken him up and away, as he’d protested furiously. It was something they would certainly do again.

It was the damn flowerpot.

They’d unearthed him gently from the ground as he was busy raging in protest. He’d felt the way they were so careful about it, and the way it felt to suddenly be so disconnected from that which had held him his whole existence. He felt it as he tried to bring up something, anything, to at least smack some sense into them, and came up empty. He remembered how gingerly they planted him there, a thoughtful look on their face as he screamed out every single bit of profanity he could remember.

Flowey had lost the power to RESET because of them, and now Frisk had taken this from him, too. It was almost cruel if you looked at it in a certain light, and Flowey certainly did. For all of their incessant preaching of peace and mercy, the human seemed all too willing to just rip everything from him with a smile. It was almost funny how they thought it was right to leave him near defenseless.

“Well,” he said after a moment of silence. “Fuck this.”

Toriel blinked in surprise, then sighed for probably the trillionth time. “Come on, then.”

Frisk was looking at both of them with concerned eyes as they snuggled into the sleeping bag. She must’ve seen it, because as she picked Flowey’s flowerpot prison up, she ruffled their hair. “Oh, don’t worry, my child. You’ll see Flowey tomorrow.”

“I hope you have _nightmares,_ ” the flower cackled.

“Unfortunately,” Toriel murmured, and closed the door gently behind her.

“Hey! I’m a _delight,_ ” he insisted as they moved through the hall. “Frisk is lucky to have me.”

“Whatever you say, Flowey.”

He laughed again. “Say, where are we going now, anyway?”

Toriel’s face was completely stoic. “Another windowsill, of course.”

“Why don’t _I_ get a sleeping bag?”

“Because you don’t need one, Flowey. You are a flower. Flowers need sunlight.”

“Not me,” he beamed.

“Surely you must _prefer_ it.”

“Well then,” he tried, a wide grin on his face, “why don’t you just pull me out?”

This got her to stop. “What did you say?”

“Rip me from this soil, silly. Plant me outside if you want to be generous! I won’t be as obnoxious out there.” He was giving her his most cheerful face, something that could’ve been almost adorable if viewed by the right person. “You’ll all get some nice rest, and you won’t have to put up with me anymore. Don’t you like to garden?”

“Yes, of course I do.” She was looking uncertain. These people were too gullible. “But Frisk--”

“--will be so thankful for the opportunity to rest!” Flowey finished her sentence, his voice as bubbly as he could manage to make it. “Didn’t you see them earlier? They were so tired! They really need it.”

Toriel stared at him pointedly. “Then quiet down. Frisk obviously has planted you into this flowerpot for a reason.” Just like that, the opportunity was over. She was moving with sure steps again, destined for another stupid windowsill.

But maybe, if he could get outside, then he could at least…

“ _Augh.”_ He ached for the power of more vines. “What is it about that stupid kid that makes you all trust them so much?”

“Well,” she responded politely as she found another windowsill. “They’re kind enough to put up with you, aren’t they?”

She had a point.

He surveyed the new surroundings. They must have been in the kitchen now; he could feel the warmth radiating from Undyne’s hot fridge. He knew there wouldn’t be a chocolate bar in there. Knives and silverware glinted faintly even in the darkness, and as he saw them, he thought of someone else. He didn’t want to.

“You can’t keep me here forever,” he tried one last time.

“That’s not up to me, dear. That’s up to Frisk. Goodnight.” She left him there in good conscience.

His eyes were heavy, but there was no way he’d sleep that night. He hadn’t slept for several already. Why a flower would’ve ever needed to sleep was beyond him, but he’d figured out that it was still a necessary evil long ago. Something about staring out into this deceptively tranquil night made him think of times like that, back when he didn’t sleep at all. Something about it felt like remembering when he did, and he’d had that bed, and Chara was always the last one to fall…

He drooped slightly.

“Rgh,” he growled, trying to sound more irritated than anything else. He failed and sounded exhausted instead.

Wait. Something caught his eye. He perked up when he noticed it.

A figure in the darkness.

“Who’s there?”

It was funny that he’d thought of Chara just now because something about the way they looked out there, as they shambled forward…

...it just kind of looked like…

...it looked _exactly_ like...

“Chara?” His eyes widened.

When they continued forward, he saw who they were and felt almost embarrassed by it. It was just the regular human he’d been stuck with all along, stumbling out with a blanket and a tired look on their face. They moved so softly and quietly against the floor, as if trying not to be detected or wake anyone. They were so considerate in that way.

“Oh,” he grumbled. “It’s just _you._ ”

Frisk nodded slowly.

“What are you doing up, anyway? Toriel won’t be happy with you.” He gave it a moment of thought. “Actually, she’ll probably blame it on me.”

He got no words in response, only the slight clatter of something near him. “What are you doing? Keep it down, you moron.”

When Frisk came closer, he saw that they had a glass and were moving towards the sink. He watched them stand on tiny human-or-just-not-flower tippy-toes as they turned the faucet on to fill it up halfway. “You know she would’ve gotten that for you.”

As usual, they didn’t care. He watched as they moved towards the window and propped themselves up against a cabinet, looking incredibly uncomfortable. They were directly below him now, with their water and their fuzzy knitted blanket, sipping it slowly.

“Well, you better not fall asleep out here,” he warned. “I don’t want to put up with your snoring or whatever it is you humans do all night.”

Frisk stared up at him.

“Look, at least she _cares_ about how comfortable _you_ are. I just have to sit on this dumb windowsill all night. I don’t even have anything to _do._ ”

When he saw the way they looked at him, he regretted saying anything again.

“Frisk, _no._ Go back to your room. I’m _fine._ ”

But they were already standing up, doing their best to reach his flowerpot. He barely had time to protest before they picked him up with tiny hands and did their best to set him down on the floor without making too much noise.

“Frisk,” he hissed. “Why do you always do things like this? What’s _wrong_ with you?”

Again, no response as they draped some of the blanket around his pot.

“Flowers don’t sleep, Frisk.”

They were tucking it in gently, covering the pot and some of the soil. He thought this was such a stupidly human thing to do, and he tried to keep that in mind even as he felt the slight warmth it provided somehow. “We don’t need to. We’re _better_ than you. Don’t you know _anything?_ ”

They shrugged.

“No, you don’t, do you? You’re the stupidest person I’ve ever met in my entire life. And I’ve met _a lot_ of stupid people, Frisk.”

With that, they got up, did their best to put the glass back up, and left.

“Good,” he said to nothing.

Silence agreed.

“I’m glad stupid Frisk’s gone,” he murmured. The blanket was feeling more and more inviting by the moment, but he couldn’t let his guard down here. Maybe before he could at least afford it, but now he was in the same house as Undyne, who hated his guts… ...now he was in the same house as Dr. Alphys, which was even worse…

He couldn’t. He wouldn’t.

His eyes, like everything else, didn’t care.

“Maybe they won’t come back,” he mumbled, and when he drooped it felt like it was happening to something else. “Maybe they left for good.”

The heat from the hot fridge was still humming outwards.

“Just like you, Chara.”

He tried to perk up again, and nothing happened.

“Just like… ...me.”

When he dreamed, he dreamed of a field of golden flowers, far as the eye could see. The little bit of sky up above was blue, the light was shining through the little bit it could in the Underground, and everything was beautiful. His dreams usually went like this, and he tried not to be surprised to find himself there. If he could keep in mind that it was just a dream, it was usually okay.

“Oh, come on,” he exclaimed. “I didn’t fall asleep, did I?”

He felt proud of himself even as he said it. Lucid dreaming was important because it meant that not even your dreams could trick you, so nothing could catch you off-guard. It had taken him years to practice; as the memories flickered through his mind, he could’ve lived them, but he wouldn’t allow himself to. He could hold onto himself this time.

“I did,” he declared smugly. “I’m dreaming. Which is dumb, but whatever.”

The other flowers were swaying in the breeze. He wondered where the breeze was coming from and tried not to think about it too much. None of it was real anyway, so it didn’t matter the way the rest of them moved, so gentle and calm. That was what he hated the most about flowers. They looked so peaceful and okay with it.

“Boy, you guys lead a dull life, huh?” He teased, and he found it easy to move in dreams the way he wanted. “‘Oh, look, I’m a flower, and all I do is just sit there all day and look pretty! No, really! I’m okay with being brainless and at the mercy of everything around me! ‘cuz I’m a flower!’ Hee, hee.” He circled around and through all of them like a wolf in sheep’s clothing, ready to rip any of them to shreds at a moment’s notice. “I wonder why none of you even have a face.”

As usual, they said nothing. Flowers weren’t supposed to, unless they were blue. He knew this, even in the dreams. Especially in the dreams. He continued to stalk his prey. “Well, you know, if you’re jealous,” he lilted, “I could always give you some.”

Yellow blank slates stared back at him.

“You look like you really want it, huh? That can be arranged.”

This would be the fun part of the dream. Admittedly, he hadn’t quite mastered it yet, but maybe now that he’d been so powerful in real actual waking life, he could be powerful in the dreams. All he had to do was imagine himself rising up out of the earth like a great big monster, plucking their petals off with tendrils and listening to them _scream…_ They’d scream as he ripped them all from their roots for being so weak and mindless, they’d scream for him to stop, they’d _beg_ for him to have mercy, but he’d be merciless. They’d be sorry for being so faceless, and they’d scream, and they’d _scream…_

“What’s all this commotion?” A big, booming voice came out of nowhere. He recognized it, but couldn’t quite place where it came from… It startled the group. He felt it through the ground, that big and thunderous voice, like an earthquake rippling through everything.

As if on cue, it happened: the flowers screamed.

Flowey laughed as he danced about the field of panicked plants. “You’re all _scared,_ aren’t you? Well, I’m better than you already. I know I don’t have to be scared, because it’s just a dream. Flowers don’t scream, flowers don’t scream! Hee, hee.”

These ones kept going.

“You know, if I had ears, this would hurt,” he remarked.

Not a one of them cared.

“Okay, well, this isn’t _funny_ anymore. It’s just annoying now. So you can stop, and I won’t tear all of your little petals off, okay?”

The screaming didn’t stop, and the voice came again, like it was getting closer. Every time it spoke, it rattled the entire earth below. “What on earth could be making that noise?” It wondered, low and ominous.

“How are any of you screaming without mouths?” He wondered aloud. He felt delirious in some way. “I’m dreaming, I think. I must be. It’s not real.”

The screaming got louder, and this time nothing mattered except the faceless features around him, all so familiar. He heard them all shrieking like Hell Itself was about to swallow them whole; he watched their faces, so vacant and uncaring. He saw them blow so gently in the breeze, even as they screamed and screamed…

They were closer, too.

“Flowers don’t scream,” he reminded himself. “Flowers don’t scream.”

They were all clumped together now in a flowerbed, not the wide field from before. He barely noticed. “I’m dreaming,” he whispered.

They were all closing in.

“Stop it,” he snapped. “Flowers don’t dream, so I don’t scream--”

It rose to a deafening pitch. They were on all sides now.

“Flowers don’t _dream!_ I don’t _scream!_ Wait, that’s not right, that’s not--”

It was all just one resounding shriek now, and he felt like he’d fall apart. He shut his eyes as tight as he could just to get away from it, he couldn’t stand to look at them anymore, screaming with no mouths, feeling with no faces...

“ **_Flowers don’t scream!!_ ** ”

When the voice came again, it was right above him, shaking the heavens. “They don’t? Then what are you doing?”

He opened his eyes. The other flowers were quiet and swaying softly. “Dad?”

There was a towering monster up above him, bigger than he should’ve been. He looked so big he could’ve moved mountains; he looked so big he could have shattered the Barrier himself. Still, as he leaned down carefully amongst the flowers to get a better look, it was unmistakably exactly who he’d thought. “Are you all right?”

“Dad,” he cried out before he could help himself. “It’s me! It’s Asriel!”

“Asriel?” The shock on his face stung like an open wound.

“Help me,” he sputtered. “Dad, I can’t feel my legs. Help me!”

“Oh, Asriel,” the King let out a noise of surprise. “How did this happen?”

“Dad, what’s wrong with me?” He felt himself crying without tears. “I can’t feel my legs, I can’t feel my arms, I can’t--I can’t feel _anything_ \--”

“It’s going to be all right... Shh.”

“Please, what’s happening,” he sobbed. “Please, help me!”

“I will. We’ll figure this out together, all right? You and I.” He felt it as the King pulled him close, the warmth of his fur and the comforting _thump_ of his heartbeat, and for a moment he felt okay. He cried without stopping as his father tried his best to hold him, just them in the garden. “I promise. I won’t let anything happen to you, Asriel. Not ever again.”

“Dad, I’m so scared,” he whispered.

“It’s all right, my son. I will protect you for as long as I live.”

“Dad,” he whispered, with no hands to cling to him. “Dad… Dad?”

There was a strange look on his dad’s face. It was so unsettling that he pulled back to look at it. “Dad, are you okay? What’s… what’s wrong?”

There was no response. He realized his dad’s face was now frozen into a grimace.

“Dad, what’s wrong? Please, answer me.”

**9999999999**

“No.” A horrified shudder went through him as he felt it. Petals from the surrounding flowers detached themselves almost effortlessly, and not a one of the flowers could scream. He didn’t know if that was worse or better as he felt the way they rose and then poised themselves like bullets in midair. “Not now. It doesn’t go like this yet.”

“It’s not supposed to,” he tried, and stopped as the first few petals fired.

“This is wrong,” he managed again. More petals.

“ _Stop!!_ ” He yelled as they encircled his father, then lunged themselves at him again. He felt every slice as if he’d made it happen himself, and the feeling was more familiar and pleasant than he wanted it to be. “At least let me _live with him first!!_ ”

He closed his eyes too tight to see.

When he knew Asgore was gone, he opened them. The flowerbed was different now, and not even the field was there anymore. In its place instead was a bunch of dark grass, barely illuminated by the blue flowers peppering it. He heard running water from somewhere far off, and a music box from somewhere that sounded even more distant, and he knew where he was.

He tried to move forward and started slightly. What felt like dust littered the ground, and he knew then that this was what remained of his poor father. He didn’t quite know how to feel as he moved through the ashes of what had once been his hero; as usual, he opted for almost nothing at all, moving hesitantly through the darkness.

“I know where I am,” he reassured himself. “I just have to find my way.”

An echo flower near him echoed it back at him, and the words bounced off the walls. “Find my way, find my way… I just have to find my--”

“Shut up.” He didn’t have the fury required for this demand.

“Shut up, shut up.” The echo flower didn’t either.

Flowey (yes, that was it! his name now!) pushed past it a little too roughly, returning to a more comfortable and irritated state. “Maybe if I can find a lantern somewhere, I can figure this out.”

“Maybe if I can find a…” He was moving away from it. “...I can… out…”

“Stupid flower.”

“Stupid flower,” another echo flower cruelly confirmed. “Stupid flower.”

He glowered in its direction. “You’re stupid too, you know.”

“You’re stupid too,” it trilled back at him. “You know, you know, you know…”

“I said _you’re_ stupid.”

“I said _you’re_ \--”

“Okay, I’m not doing this anymore,” Flowey informed the stale air, sickly sweet with echo flower stench and memory. “We’re moving on.”

“We’re moving on,” the echo flower allowed. “We’re moving on, on, on…”

He did, but not in the way he expected. He was trying to find a lantern, he think he remembered, something to show him the way. Some distant part of him knew they were blue, and that he only had to follow their light against the grass. He was trying to find a lantern, but he found himself so suddenly in a different place, staring down at his own reflection.

“Oh,” he gasped in mild surprise as he stared into what must have been a rain puddle. “I keep forgetting that’s me.”

He was grateful that no echo flower felt the need to reiterate this.

“Flowey the Flower,” he murmured in awe, as if hearing it for the first time.

The flower became aware of how much it was raining, first signaled by one drop rippling across his reflection and then another until he felt utterly soaked. Panic suddenly surged through him as he looked helplessly around for any form of shelter, and it almost felt like a good feeling. It almost felt like anything at all.

“Can I become overwatered?” He mused as he scanned the surroundings. “I don’t remember…”

He wasn’t used to this body yet, was he? His real body… ...his _other_ body… ...his real _real_ body that wasn’t a flower was so much bigger than this, and felt so much less fragile. He didn’t know to expect raindrops that hurt this much or hit this hard, but he was so small against the whole of the world now, and it felt different.

“I don’t want to die,” he convinced himself again.

This was enough to keep him going.

After what seemed like an eternity, he spotted what looked like umbrellas in some form of container in the distance. It didn’t occur to him to wonder how he moved towards it so quickly; by this point, all that mattered that it was there, and he only paused to read the sign attached to it.

“Wait,” it occurred to him to wonder. “How do I pick this up again? Um.”

It was raining. He might be drowning. He had to figure this out fast.

Strangely, he didn’t have to, not this time. He moved on without it, shivering against the incessant drops of water, staring so intently at his own reflection that he almost ran right into something else.

“Oh,” he said, and then: “ _Oh._ ”

Before him was a statue, worn down by water. He noted its hunched shape, as though it were carrying something else in its arms, and how solemn it seemed to be. He stopped to stare at it for a little while, the hollow in him filling up with a kind of sadness or aloneness, at least. “I just wanted you to be happy.”

The figure in the statue’s arms didn’t answer, not like they would have before.

“If I make everyone else happy,” he asked the statue, “that’s almost like making you happy, isn’t it?”

Again, no answer.

He didn’t expect one; he felt disappointed anyways.

“Maybe I can learn to care again,” he told the statue, “if I really try.”

Only the sound of the rain. He got upset and frustrated, more than the numbness inside of him warranted, and didn’t know what to do with it. He kept moving without paying any attention to where he was going or whether or not the surroundings made any sense, and when he finally came upon an echo flower, all he could do was stop to shout at it. “I just wanted you to be like _me!!_ ”

Flowey fully expected it to echo this back at him in annoying way, just like all of them ever had. He was slightly bewildered and alarmed to find that it was silent, and he prodded it with a tendril and didn’t think about how this was possible. “Aren’t you supposed to say something, at least?”

It said nothing.

“Look, I’m sorry,” he said after a moment. “I just thought for a second that--”

A sound was emitting from it, almost a whisper.

“What?”

Slightly louder now, almost garbled.

Still, he found after a moment that he could make out the words:

**B U T  N O B O D Y  C A M E . . .**

A chill ran through him. The rain no longer mattered. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

It only echoed its own words back, louder this time.

**B U T  N O B O D Y  C A M E . . .**

Flowey ran away.

To his horror, he ran into another one.

“‘Mommy, Daddy, somebody help!’” It was mocking him.

He tried to move in another direction and ran into more water, aware that this could be what killed him as he fought to swim frantically through it. Another echo flower glowed in the distance, but he couldn’t turn around as it repeated what the one before it had.

“‘Mommy, Daddy, somebody help! Mommy, Daddy, somebody--’”

“Stop it, _please,_ ” he begged. “Say this instead! Say this!”

“‘Mommy, Daddy, somebody help! Mommy--’”

“ _No,_ ” he screeched, moving as quickly as he could, echo flowers all yelling that same phrase as he passed and clamoring for help. He barely had time to register how dark it had become, and ran right into another one at some sort of dead end. This time, there was no attempting to escape the words it had to say, and they came out agonizingly slow.

**T U R N  A R O U N D .**

He had no other choice.

He didn’t know exactly what he expected when he turned, but there she was anyway. Just as towering his father had seemed, and just as heartbroken. He expected to feel some kind of love when he saw her, something he couldn’t manage to feel for his father even looking back on it, but he couldn’t care. Still, he did feel relief, and he hoped so much that was enough.

“Mom,” he choked out. “Help me.”

“‘Help me,’” sang echo flowers in his voice behind them. “‘Help me, help me! Mommy, Daddy, somebody help!’”

Her gaze was unflinchingly sad and angry.

“Mom, please,” he stammered, dripping with water. “I know I’ve been a bad son, I didn’t tell you what I was doing and I’m so sorry, but I need your help. Please, Mom, I need--”

“‘Help me,’” chanted echo flowers, sounding closer. He could hear them moving through the water, and it would’ve made him sick if he could’ve felt anything like that. “‘Mommy, Daddy, somebody help!’”

“Mom?”

She wasn’t saying anything.

“Mom, please--”

“‘Mommy, Daddy,’” said the echo flowers. “‘Mommy, Daddy, somebody help!’”

He curled up in the water, and found his lower half was heavier than expected. He wanted to back up, to move, to do _something_ but he found himself weighed down. It barely registered in such a panicked state that he was in a flowerpot. “Please…”

“‘Mommy, Daddy, Mommy, Daddy, Mommy…’”

“I don’t want to die.”

His mother looked at him with no sense of recognition on her face, forming a fireball in her hands.  “What a terrible creature,” she said, coldly. “Torturing such a poor, innocent youth…”

The fireball came towards him before he could even think about it.

All the echo flowers sounded off at once.

**B U T  N O B O D Y  C A M E .**

With a start, Flowey woke up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, I'm just whipping these out, huh? Guess I have no self-control. And insomnia. Hope you like it! Thank you for reading.


	4. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just thought I'd upload this chapter as a celebration of kicking 2016's ass to the curb. Plus, my Flowey Fan Club pin and stickers shipped today. Happy New Year!

Maybe it wasn’t a start so much as it was a scream. Maybe it was both; he couldn’t quite tell. All he knew was that someone was staring at him as he screeched, but they looked too far away for him to care. He flailed about frantically, trying to just get away from what had happened, trying to get far away from wherever he was now, and found that the voice that greeted him wasn’t very comforting at all.

“Flowey,” came the voice, in a distant way. “Flowey, stop. Calm down.”

“Get  _ away _ from me,” he snarled as fiercely as he could. “Don’t fucking  _ touch  _ me, don’t come near me,  _ don’t you DARE _ \--”

“Come to your senses now, all right? It was merely a nightmare, that’s all. Just a bad dream.”

“ _ Fuck _ you. I’ll kill you, I swear I can--”

“Frisk,” she whispered, “why don’t you give him to me? I don’t want him to hurt you.”

Flowey laughed hysterically. “ _ You’re _ worried  _ I’ll _ hurt someone? You… ...you’re worried  _ I’ll _ \--”

Tiny fingers reached out and patted his petals softly. He started at the way they felt and recoiled, but they got him to focus a little on the scenery that was actually in front of him. It took a moment to register, but of course it was Frisk and not Chara staring back at him with such a worried expression. Of course he was in their arms. Of course.

“ _ You _ don’t get to touch me, either,” he hissed.

The human was at least kind enough to respect this request, and the feeble attempt at patting him stopped. Now he was just left to stare at their face, and he felt almost embarrassed as the reality of the situation occurred to him. He’d let himself get lost in dreams again, and this time he wasn’t alone. This time, his night terrors had an audience, and he hated to think about it.

“Flowey,” Toriel tried, and he couldn’t help but flinch at that voice. “Do you know where we are?”

Humiliation filled him to the core, and he couldn’t even look at either of them. “Of course I do,” he mumbled, his voice thick with sleep still. “I’m not an  _ idiot. _ ”

“Oh, hush. No one’s accusing you of that, are we?”

Frisk must have shaken their head, because it took her a second to say anything else.

“Of course it is normal to have bad dreams. We were just concerned.”

This nearly made him laugh, just from the absurdity of it. Even the vague idea that any one of these people could have cared for him was beyond him, and besides that, it was just a bad idea. Knowing Toriel, she didn’t really care anyway. Frisk had probably dragged her out here, or he’d stirred them from sleep and she’d come to stop him.

“Frisk was especially worried,” she added. “Weren’t you, my child?”

He glanced up at Frisk to find them nodding, sympathy in their eyes. It looked so heartfelt. He couldn’t help but hate it. “ _ Why? _ ”

A door flew off its hinges before he could receive a response.

Predictably, Undyne stood in the doorway, shielding Alphys from whatever she thought was there. “Whoever’s there, show yourself!! Especially if you don’t want to get a spear through the chest!”

“U-Undyne,” Alphys was attempting to whisper. “Wh-what is it? I can’t tell.”

“Come out and face me, you  _ cowards, _ ” Undyne roared. “Come out and  _ FIGHT  _ me, or I’ll  **_find you and tear you apart myself!!_ ** ”

Flowey had to admire how fearsome she looked, even if it was all for nothing. For all of her absolutely outrageous and annoying theatrics, Undyne was actually really good at making herself look terrifying when needed. Her teeth glinted dangerously in the moonlight; her eyes nearly glowed with rage. It was completely unnecessary, but it was still impressive in its own way.

Once her eyes fell upon the group, she was ready to defend them, too. She lowered her voice, eyes still darting about the room. “Is everything okay? Did they hurt you?? Those  _ BASTARDS!!  _ Alphys and I--”

“Undyne, what’s going on?” Alphys whispered, trying to at least get a glimpse over her partner, standing on her tiptoes. “Sh-she has spears, you know! And I’m, um, really good with, well, computer type… ...things! So you better back off!”

“Alphys,” Undyne tried to whisper back just as unconvincingly. “Shh. I’m trying to protect you!”

“I know, I just thought I’d--”

Toriel interrupted them both. “No, no, no. We’re fine. Do not concern yourselves.” 

“Are you SURE?? Because if there’s anyone threatening you, they’ll definitely have to get through me first!”

“And me,” Alphys piped up, meek and sweaty.

“...And her, I guess! But not if I can help it.”

“Thanks.”

“Psh, always.”

“No, no,” insisted Toriel. She looked thoroughly embarrassed. “It’s kind of you to try to help, but there are no threats here. Flowey was just having a nightmare, that’s all. We were concerned as well, and came to check on him.”

It was nothing compared to his embarrassment. “Oh, my god,” he groaned.

To make matters worse, Alphys was the one to speak next. “You have  _ nightmares?  _ I mean, obviously you do, Toriel just said so, but you  _ sleep? _ I mean, um--” She sounded curious, which was almost offensive.

“What’s it to  _ you? _ ”

“It’s just… ...you’re a flower.”

“‘Another brilliant scientific deduction from the astounding Dr. Alphys,’” Flowey mocked, sticking his tongue out and crossing his eyes so he could look like just as much of a dope as she was. “‘Whatever will she discover next? It’s almost like she wasn’t even  _ fired!! _ ’”

“What the hell?” Undyne was quick to defend her girlfriend, as usual. “ _ You’re  _ the one who woke us up, you freak of nature! Of  _ course _ she’s curious. Flowers aren’t supposed to sleep.”

“Oh, I’m  _ so _ sorry for mocking the scientific curiosity of someone who wasn’t even good enough to keep a job  _ before _ it became obsolete here on the surface!” Flowey gasped. “You’re absolutely right. I was out of line.”

“Will you just  _ let that go already?  _ She’s the only reason you even have a place to sleep tonight! If it were up to me, I would’ve invited everyone  _ but _ you.”

“Good!!” Flowey yelled back at her. “I didn’t even  _ want _ to stay here anyway!”

“Flowey.” Toriel was trying to be stern again. It rarely worked.

“Good! You’re the  _ worst  _ houseguest we’ve had so far! And Jerry was here a few nights ago.”

Okay, he had to admit, that was a pretty low blow. “What, really? Why were you even hanging  _ out _ with--”

“That’s not the  _ point, _ ” Undyne shouted. “You know what  _ I _ think?”

“I don’t  _ want _ to! I don’t  _ care! _ ”

“TOO BAD!! I think you’re just diverting the attention off of you because you don’t want us to laugh at how you’re too wimpy to handle a  _ bad dream!! _ ” Her face went from enraged to mockingly giddy in seconds. “Ooh, everybody, Flowey the Flower’s  _ such _ a merciless killing machine even though he’s probably afraid of the dark or something! We’re all soooo scared!!”

“You  _ should  _ be.”

Undyne scoffed. “Yeah, right! Who even takes you seriously? Even  _ Frisk _ is stronger than you.” She turned to face them. “No offense, Frisk. You’re stronger than me, too! Or as strong, at least. You’re actually pretty incredible.”

As usual, Frisk wouldn’t speak up, but they gave a slight smile. Anyone could see that they were poised to take Flowey out whenever instructed, and they looked pretty focused on him at the moment. Truth be told, it was starting to weird him out a little. What a strange kid.

“Undyne, no,” Alphys spoke up again from behind her tall girlfriend. “It’s really okay. He’s right, I mean… I mean, it’s my fault anyway.”

“It’s not your fault, Alphys. He’s just a jerk. Don’t let him get to you.”

“Ha!” Flowey laughed. “Yeah, Dr. Alphys. Don’t let your mistakes haunt you too much!!”

Undyne rolled her eyes. “Well, whatever. I’m just glad everyone else is okay.”

“As am I,” said Toriel, her tone uncertain. “Regardless, we are  _ all _ so sorry to have disturbed you both, and I think it’s time that all of us get a proper amount of rest. It can’t be good for anyone to be awake at this hour.”

It was interesting how she was willing to be a mom to everyone else.

(Flowers didn’t need moms, anyway.)

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” Undyne conceded. “After all, Alphys needs her beauty sleep!”

None of them could see her blush, but all of them could tell.

“Gross,” Flowey complained.

“Yup! We’re disgusting!” Undyne confirmed with a huge smile. Alphys was giggling quietly behind her and trying to hide. “Anyway, don’t sweat it, Toriel. It’s definitely not  _ your _ fault either.”

“I am glad to hear it. I do hope you both have a decent sleep after this. We’ll try our best to keep it down.”

“You know,” Flowey said, “if you actually  _ did _ plant me in the garden, this problem would go away.”

Frisk was the first to shake their head, giving a thumbs down.

“Oh, shut up,” the despondent flower grumbled. “I know you’ll never actually let me out of this thing. You just love keeping me prisoner.” He glared down at the flowerpot and channeled all his anger into it as if he were daring spite to start sprouting there instead. Then again, what was the difference?

“I told you, Flowey,” Toriel said. “Frisk has their reasons.”

“Yeah, none of us would actually be stupid enough to let you out! Besides, you’d just wake the whole goddamn neighborhood!” Something seemed to click in Undyne’s brain, and in a split second, all of her intense focus was on the flower. “Wait a minute… ...did you make up all this junk about nightmares so we’d let you out?”

It took him a moment, too. “...Yes.”

Frisk gave him a look that suggested they knew this was bullshit, raising an eyebrow. He ignored them as best he could, continuing on with the facade. “What,” he scoffed, sounding incredulous, “did you think I  _ actually _ had a nightmare? Flowers don’t dream, idiots. But you ate it all up!” He giggled with a fabricated villainous glee.

“I  _ KNEW _ it!” Undyne all but shrieked, pointing an accusatory finger at him. “I  _ KNEW _ you had to be lying! Why would a flower need sleep, anyway?? I bet you really thought you’d get away with it, too!”

“Oh, darn! I almost did, but you’re just too clever.”

Toriel was raising a skeptical eyebrow too. “It seemed awfully real to me, Flowey.”

“Did it? I guess I’m just too good!”

“Pfft! Well,  _ you’re _ the idiot!” Undyne howled with laughter. “You’ll never be able to get away with that again!”

“Oh, golly,” gasped Flowey, looking taken aback. “I guess I won’t, huh? I’ll have to think of something else.” He smiled and knew from the look on her face that this would occupy her for days, and that was enough.

“Good luck with that, punk. I’ll be watching you!”

“Have fun,” Flowey advised cheerfully.

“RRAGH!!” She shook a fist at him. Good. He’d aggravated her enough that she was yelling irritated sounds now. “Whatever, of course I will! Come on, Alphys. We’re going back to bed. This was just a waste of our time!”

“Okay,” stuttered Alphys, not without hesitance. “Just… ...just give me a second, okay?”

“What? Are you sure?”

“Um,” sputtered Alphys. “Yes. In fact, uh… ...could I have a moment alone with…  Flowey?”

“What? No!” Flowey spat in horror, recoiling as much as possible. “I do  _ not _ want a moment alone with--”

“Yeah, Alphys,” said Undyne, “you know I love you, but that… ...doesn’t seem like the best idea at all.”

“Are you sure about this, dear?”

Alphys inhaled and then exhaled deeply. “Yeah, I’m… I’m sure. Just a minute, that’s all I ask.”

“Please,  _ no, _ why would  _ anyone _ think this is a good--” He was still trying to make them see reason.

But Frisk nodded thoughtfully and set him down. Just like that, they were walking out of the room, this time at least without him. They all watched them go, completely dumbfounded and almost without words. Alphys just looked grateful that someone had listened to her at all. She probably just wanted to torture him without anyone else around.

“Well, if Frisk sees no problem with it…” Toriel said with reluctance. “Then I suppose I don’t either.”

“Are you  _ kidding  _ me? Don’t leave me here like this! No.  _ No!! _ ”

She was ignoring him now. “But if he starts to make trouble or you need anything, dear,” she said with a seriousness he hadn’t heard from her in awhile, “don’t hesitate to call, all right? Immediately.”

“And just so you know,” Undyne said, whipping around to face her. “I respect and trust you enough to know you have a reason for wanting to be in the same room as… ... _ that. _ ”

“Thank you.”

“But… ...really, don’t let him get inside your head, okay?” Her concern was so sincere as she looked Alphys in the eyes. “He doesn’t deserve that.  _ You _ don’t deserve that. And I… I love you.”

“Don’t worry, Undyne,” Alphys blushed. “I… I love you, too. It’s only for a minute.”

Undyne eyed her for a moment, then him. “Okay. I’ll be… I’ll be right there waiting for you, okay?”

“Okay,” Alphys nodded, looking grateful and embarrassed as she wrung her hands. “I’m… ...glad.”

“Okay.” She stepped out of the way so that Alphys could get by and turned back to him for one moment, looking as ferocious as possible. “Just so you know, if you hurt her? You’re  _ dead. _ ”

“I don’t care about that,” he said with a bluntness none of them expected. “But you can’t do this, not after what just happened at the house! Have all of you  _ completely _ \--”

“Don’t care,” said Undyne, just as bluntly. “I’ll be in the next room.” She marched off.

“Er,” said Toriel awkwardly. “I think I will just go to check on Frisk.”

To his complete dismay, she did. They were alone now.

“Okay, so what are you going to do to me?” He asked, seeming somewhat hysterical even to himself. “What do you  _ want?  _ How could you  _ possibly _ fuck my life up even more than you already have? Was it that thing I said about you getting fired, because that’s on  _ you _ \--”

“No, no!” She denied it immediately, waving her hands about. “No, no, no! I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Yeah, right,” he spat. “Sure. What are you going to do now, Dr. Alphys? Turn me into another one of your monstrosities? Because you already ruined any chance I might have had at peace! I mean, it’s one thing to fuck up someone’s  _ life, _ but you fucked up my  _ afterlife _ too--”

“I know. I know, but I didn’t  _ mean _ to. You have to believe me!”

“Intent means  _ nothing _ to me,” he said, eyeing her without any care at all. “I know what you’re doing. You have everyone else fooled, but you’re not sorry at all.”

“What?” She looked completely blindsided. “Of  _ course _ I am… I--I never wanted this to happen.”

“Then what made you do it, Alphys? What made you think you could  _ play God? _ ”

“I was only doing what I was told. Please, don’t--” She stopped, hanging her head and sighing. “Please, don’t… ...do this, Asriel.”

In that moment, the world stopped. No one had called him that in such a long time that he felt almost smacked upside the head with it. All of the surroundings, from the utterly useless hot fridge to the door lying awkwardly in the middle of the floor after being torn from its rightful place, melted away into a meaningless nothing. “What?” His voice felt far away. “ _ What _ did you just call me?”

“Listen, Asriel, I--”

“I don’t want to hear about that right now.” His voice was flat. His eyes were somewhere else. “I want to know why you called me that, Alphys.”

“I can explain,” she tried. “I can explain  _ everything _  if you’ll just let me.”

“I don’t want to know  _ everything, _ ” he said. He was unreal even to himself. “I want to know how the fuck you know my name.”

“Asriel, if you’ll just listen for a second--”

“And why. Why do you know my name, Dr. Alphys.”

“Well, I can’t explain if you don’t  _ listen!! _ ” She blurted out, and then immediately regretted it. “I mean, listen… ...okay. I know this is a lot to take in right now, but please just stay with me, okay? I don’t want to hurt you, I just want to--I want to--”

“‘kay,” he said weakly. “Fair point.”

“I’m sorry,” she apologized after a moment. He thought maybe she was still wringing her hands. The hot fridge glowed red against the linoleum floor. He saw his reflection and thought it didn’t look real. “It… ...it isn’t right of me to yell at you, not after what I did. And I’m so sorry, but I think if you can find it in your heart to talk to me, I can… I can make this a little better.”

“Oh, I don’t have a heart…” He sang distantly. “You of all people should know that.”

She inhaled another breath. “Okay, true. Bad choice of words. But um… ...Asriel, I--”

“Can you do me a favor,” he managed, “and stop calling me that for a second?”

“What? Oh, yeah. Sorry. Um.” She was wringing her hands even more than before. Maybe her sweat would fill this place to the brim. Maybe she’d break her own fingers. Only time could tell. “As--Flowey, you have to know, I never meant for it to be this way.”

“I don’t want to hear justifications, Alphys.”

“I know, I know. I’m sorry. I’m just nervous.”

He laughed a little. “Huh.”

“But um, whether I meant to or not, I… I’m just so sorry.”

“Apologies are meaningless too at this point, Alphys.”

“I know,” she said again. “I get that completely, and I’m not even asking you to forgive me. But you should know that I’ve known… I’ve known who you were for awhile now, okay? And I… ...I was so scared to confront it, okay, and you--”

“I don’t care about your fear.”

“I know,” she stuttered. “I know you don’t. I know, but I figured it out on my own. Your ashes… ...the flower… I’m just so sorry.” She couldn’t even look at him now. She was staring at the floor, tears forming in her eyes. It was so pathetic he wanted to scream.

He blinked instead. “Have you told anyone else?”

“O-Of course not! I would never. Not without your, um… ...permission, anyway.”

“Well, you don’t have it.”

“I knew I wouldn’t.” She sighed, and her voice was so sad. “But I just want to know… ...why? Your parents miss you  _ so much. _ Asgore is  _ so _ hurt, and I’m sure Toriel is too, and I’m sure if you told them they would--”

“Don’t.” He was cold and angry. “You don’t know  _ anything. _ ”

Mercifully, she backed off. “No, I guess I… ...don’t.” She was sniffling in front of him, holding back sobs. “Not if I did this to you. I just thought the King would be so happy if it worked. I just thought everyone would be so  _ happy. _ Not only to get past the Barrier, but to see  _ you _ again, or something  _ like _ you anyway. I thought I could… I thought I could give everyone hope.”

He laughed again, louder this time. “Hope.”

“Yes, but um, obviously,” she stammered. “Obviously, if you feel this way about it, something went wrong. Just like with everything else. And I can’t stand that, As--Fl--I can’t stand that, I just can’t take any more failure.”

“Too bad you’re so skilled at it, then.”

She drew another sharp breath in. “I mean, that’s fair,” she conceded. “But… ...but you see, Flowey, um,” she was trying to look up at him again and mostly failing. He saw her shake like a leaf against the wind and enjoyed it. “Things are… ...different now, you know?”

“Maybe for  _ you. _ ”

“No, I mean…” Her bottom lip trembled with tears and the emotions that brought them on. “I mean, things are  _ really _ different. Don’t you see? Frisk’s freed  _ all _ of us. We don’t have to live down there anymore, with all this hurt and all these secrets and all these terrible things we’ve done… We don’t have to be who we were before, whoever… ... _ what _ ever that was…”

She looked right at him.

“We’re free. We’re  _ free _ now to be who we are. Who we always…”

She looked back down at the floor, teardrops falling down her face and onto the tiles.

“Who we always  _ wanted _ to be.”

“Do you really think you gave me that option? You took  _ everything _ from me.”

She was fixated on the ground now, too ashamed to look up. “I know why you see it that way,” she tried, “but really--”

“Do you not even understand,” he went on, “the repercussions of what you’ve  _ done?  _ My god, you honestly  _ believe _ it!” He looked at her with something bordering awe and disgust on his face. “You really think that just because they brought us up here, you can forget what you’ve done! And you want  _ everyone… _ ” He was looking at her with bloodlust, and he knew it when she flinched away. “...to  _ forgive _ you, so you can feel okay about leading a normal life.”

“Please, just give me--”

“A second chance?” He laughed and she shivered. It made the situation a little better. “ _ No. _ I tried to tell you back there, and no one would listen. Life isn’t like your precious  _ animes, _ Alphys. You can’t just give me some speech about friendship and think it’s going to  _ fix _ it.”

“I know, I’m not expecting--”

“It doesn’t work that way! So you know, everyone else can forgive you, because you can give them their happy endings. But not… ...not me. So just stop trying.”

“Flowey--”

“I’ll  _ never _ be the same. Don’t you get it?”

“Flowey, please. I know. But I want to--”

“Apologize? I told you. That just won’t cut it anymore.”

“No,” she insisted, a little more forcefully than she meant to, and he could tell she regretted it. “No! Will you just stop monologuing and LISTEN to me??”

“Why should I? What reason have you given me, even during the course of this conversation, to listen to ANYthing you could possibly have to say or even take an interest? What the fuck is  _ wrong _ with you, Dr. Alphys?”

“I can  _ fix _ it.” Her voice was firm and sure this time. “Not like that. But like… ...I’ve been working on… ...things.”

He stopped, interest piqued. “Things?” He tilted his head to the side.

“Yeah,” she said. “Things. Like, um… ...just until I get a solid job, I’ve had a lot of ideas kind of just sitting there in my brain with nowhere to go, and I’ve had a totally ridiculous amount of time with almost nothing to do, and Undyne tells me that I’ll find work any day now but my previous employer was the King so I really don’t know how, and neither does she, but I have a lab now in the basement, it’s just temporary, it’s really not that great--”

“I never asked for your entire life’s story.”

“Yeah, oops. Sorry. Anyway, so I’ve known who you are, and I’ve known you’re not happy about it, so then I started thinking of how… I could make it better.”

“What do you mean? You’re too vague.” He tried to reach a tendril out to poke her, but there was no way anymore.

“Right, okay,” she drew another breath in, too shallow. “Well, I, um… I’ve thought of a few things already, but I really need your input to do a good job at this. I mean, I made Mettaton’s body, but I don’t know if--”

He scoffed. “Pass.”

“Well, actually,” she dared to correct him, “I was going to say, I don’t know if that would work with you, because you’re SOULless. Like… ...on purpose.”

“Good call, genius.”

“Right, so um… I just want to know what being SOULless is like.”

“Do you want me to  **_RIP IT FROM YOUR BODY?_ ** ” He was glad to see her back up from him at least. There was real fear in her eyes.

“Please don’t,” she requested humbly. “I mean more like, um… ...why are you so miserable? Maybe if we start there, we can--”

He laughed so loudly that it caused her even more fright. “Well, let’s see! My parents can’t remember me, I have no real body or arms or legs, now I don’t even have plant powers or anything to do because stupid Frisk dragged me up here to the dumb surface without my permission, no one respects me or listens to me, and… ...oh yeah. I’m a fucking  _ flower. _ Why do you  _ think _ I’m so miserable?”

“Mm… ...yeah, I figured all of that out. But um, that’s not… I mean… ...what’s the  _ worst _ thing… ...about it…??”

“Are you just trying to get me to relive every miserable moment of my  _ life _  or something?”

“No! I promise. This is… ...real. This is a real inquiry, I mean. I really need to know."

“You’re so presumptuous, anyway. What makes you think I don’t  _ want _ to be this way? Maybe I like having no SOUL by this point, you don’t know! Maybe it’s… ...maybe it’s my  _ favorite. _ ”

“You don’t have to pretend with me, Flowey. I already know how much you hate it.”

“I know. I just wanted you to know you’re assuming an awful lot about me.”

“Okay.”

“And how that’s a  _ mistake. _ Like everything else you do in life.”

“...Okay.”

“And how really it’s none of your business, so you can just go--”

“I’m trying to  _ help _ you, Flowey! That’s  _ it. _ This only benefits you. Why are you being so  _ difficult? _ ”

“Because it’s going to fuck me up even more! I know how you operate.”

“Do you really think that after  _ all _ I’ve been through, I would do something without making sure it  _ wouldn’t? _ ” She was getting frustrated with him, he could tell, and it was almost delicious. “You talk about your own misery, but do you know how miserable  _ I’ve _ been? Do you know how long it’s taken me to even  _ get _ to a point where I don’t want to just give up? I went so many years being so ashamed of what I’ve done--”

“ _ Good _ \--”

“--that I couldn’t even stand to look at or  _ think _ about myself! I didn’t even think I could have friends.”

“You  _ shouldn’t. _ ”

“Well, now I  _ do, _ ” she snapped. “Now I do, and you’re just going to have to deal with it!”

“Well, that’s not  _ fair, _ ” he snapped right back. “Because  _ I _ don’t have friends!!”

This got her to pause and look at him. Her eyes were pitiful. He couldn’t stand to look at her anymore. “Wait a minute… Flowey, do you even  _ want _ friends?”

“Ugh, no! Of course not. But even if I  _ did, _ I couldn’t have them, Alphys. It’s different for you.”

“Tell me _how._ _Please._ ”

“You have the option, at least.” He glowered. “I don’t.”

“Why not?”

“I mean, people can  _ tell _ me they’re my friends,” he started rambling, almost unaware of her suddenly. He suspected this was started to become involuntary; he’d held it all in for so long, after all. “That’s true. Papyrus has been my friend. Well, I guess everyone at  _ some _ point has been my friend. I think even Frisk now might be my only friend.”

She didn’t dare speak and ruin it. “Mhm.”

“But I mean, the thing is,” he babbled, lost in his own tragic tale for a moment, “just because  _ they _ think I am, it doesn’t mean  _ I  _ am. You know?”

“Right.”

“And it’s not that I even care, I mean, I’ve slaughtered all of you by practically the hundreds or whatever.”

That one got her to hesitate. “Um… I mean, okay. Sure.”

“But I guess it’s different to have the  _ option, _ okay? Because I can’t care like you do.”

“Um…” She was so wary of breaking the moment, of ruining it. “So do you mean you literally can’t care, or…?”

“I guess,” he admitted. “I really wanted to, though. Don’t get me wrong. I tried  _ so _ hard in the beginning.”

“I bet,” she muttered absent-mindedly.

“Yeah, but what you did… ...what you did… oh.” The moment was ending. He was feeling that justified trembling again that only happened in a moment of pure hatred. “What  _ you _ did to me. It took all that away.”

“Flowey, I’m so--”

“I  _ know, _ ” he spat like venom. “But that doesn’t  _ change _ it, does it? That doesn’t give me back those times of being so terrified, trying to care about  _ anyone.  _ That doesn’t take away all the times I tried to do such nice things for  _ all _ of you because I thought it would help. That doesn’t erase trying to  _ kill _ myself because I didn’t want to live in a world without love.”

Her eyes widened. “You tried to… I mean, you wanted to…” She trailed off. “Oh, Asriel.”

“Shut  _ up _ ,” he demanded. “Because you know what? It didn’t work! And that’s probably your fault  _ too! _ Just like  _ everything else!! _ ”

She was silent now. The hot fridge was still humming.

“Are you happy, Dr. Alphys?” He grinned wildly at her. “You made me  _ too DETERMINED to let myself DIE!! _ ”

She gave it a moment of thought, a pained expression on her face. “I… I don’t even know what to say. You were so young. You… ...you  _ are _ so young, I think. I--I’m just so disgusted that anything that  _ I  _ did would make you feel like you had to…”

She trailed off again. He didn’t say anything else. He didn’t owe her anything.

“I mean,  _ I’ve _ felt like it plenty of times, but…”

She twiddled her thumbs. He could tell she was still thinking.

“You know what? No.” She took another deep breath and looked right at him. “I told Undyne I wouldn’t let anything mess me up like this. I’ve been doing a lot better. And you know what else?  _ You can too. _ ”

“Pff.” Even after such emotional displays, he found room for apathy. It was pretty typical of him, all things considered. “You’re all so optimistic, it makes me sick. I  _ told  _ you it doesn’t work like that for me, but you’re too dense.”

“Maybe it doesn’t  _ now, _ but…” She tripped a little over her own tongue. “But that doesn’t mean it  _ can’t. _ I told you something, too. I’ve been working on some things. And if… ...if it ever hurt you so much to live in a world without love… I can’t  _ imagine _ how much that would hurt…”

“Yeah, yeah. My life sucks. Get to the point.”

“Isn’t it obvious? I can find a way for you to care.”

“No, really?” He gasped in mock surprise. “I didn’t  _ ever _ anticipate things going in  _ this _ direction!” His voice was flat again. “No.”

“Why not? You can’t be helped if you don’t let  _ someone _ help you, Flowey.”

“You’re just going to,” he sputtered. “I don’t know, you’re going to turn me  _ doubly _ SOULless or something. Or… or turn me into a dog. Or turn me into two dogs. Or turn me into ten incredibly melted and messed up dogs, all with their own families--”

She sighed again. “I’m not stupid enough to make the same mistake twice, okay? I’m the worst, but I’m not… ...um,  _ that _ much… ...the worst.”

“Yes, you are,” he corrected her, his tone nonchalant. “But listen. You have me intrigued. So if it will soothe your plagued little conscience, and you can  _ prove _ to me that you won’t mess this up like everything else, I’ll try it.”

“That’s fair.”

“But if it makes me  _ worse, _ that’s on you forever. Do you understand?”

“Yes. I… I understand. I’m willing to risk it. To make things right.”

“Okay, then.” Flowey grinned, glowing red against the darkness. “Your move, Dr. Alphys.”

When Undyne shouted from their bedroom, it was almost on cue. “Is everything okay out there, Alphys?? He’s not  _ hurting _ you, is he?”

“No, Undyne,” she yelled back. “I’m fine!”

“Okay, well… ...well, are you coming to bed, then?!”

“I’ll be right there!” She was already turning back. “Guess that’s our cue to part ways, huh?”

“I guess. Good luck not fucking up my whole life  _ twice. _ ”

“Thanks,” she said, and he could tell she was genuine. 

When she started to walk away, her footsteps were hurried. He could tell that she wanted to get away from him, and for now, maybe that was okay. The reflection of the hot fridge played on her glasses; it was practically the only source of light, and something about it made him think of the glow of those echo flowers. It would have made him uneasy, but he knew better. It was more surreal that he had dared to make a deal with one of the worst people he could possibly think of, and as much as it haunted him as she walked away, he hoped it haunted her even more. And worse.

“Good luck with your nightmares,” she said. 

Flowey could tell she meant that, too, but couldn’t imagine why.

He didn’t sleep after that.


	5. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter brought to you by Target (not really -- I just love their store! ;A;). Feelin' anxious so I'm uploading another one. Hope you enjoy still. Sorry for some of the formatting issues. None of them are intentional.

When morning finally arrived, Toriel insisted on making everyone breakfast. Flowey watched as she shuffled merrily about the kitchen, humming softly as she looked for ingredients to use. He should have known she’d be a morning person; even before they’d had a real place to stay, she’d been up at the crack of dawn, ready to subject them all to another horrible human house.

“Good morning, Flowey,” she greeted him warmly. “I trust the rest of your night went all right.”

“I guess,” he said, too preoccupied to be contrary.

“Good,” she said, preoccupied too as she danced about. “That’s very good.”

In the moments of silence interspersed with joyful humming, he’d started to comprehend that the events earlier had been _real_ . The kitchen looked like a less sinister place now that the sun was beginning to rise, soft blues filling up the void where night had been, and the knives were less obvious. But it was the same place, nonetheless, where he’d been offered something incredible. Something potentially dangerous. By someone he hated _so much…_

He’d never let Alphys know, but he couldn’t stop thinking about it.

He expected to be bored while everyone else slept, at least. All he’d done for the past who knows how many hours was stare out into the empty darkness punctuated with a red hot glow. There was scarcely anything for him to do, and it was so late that not even _Frisk_ visited him again (they were probably sleeping, he guessed), but he barely noticed. His eyes hurt and he was so tired, but some part of his mind felt so awake in the way that it did when it was replaying certain Things over and over…

Toriel opened a cabinet, peeked inside, then frowned. “And how about your talk with Alphys?” She asked, absent-mindedly. “How did that go?”

Ugh. He should’ve known someone was going to bring it up sooner or later. “It was _fine,_ okay? I don’t want to talk about it.”

“That’s nice,” she said, in the tone of someone who wasn’t really listening anyway. “Oh, dear, they don’t have much, do they…”

“With the way Undyne cooks, I can’t really be surprised.”

To his surprise, she chuckled. “Now, Flowey,” she scolded him, “that’s not very nice, is it?”

“It’s _true,_ though. Did you know she even burned down her last house?”

“Oh, my, that’s terrible,” she gasped. “Though it does explain why they have so many packets of dry noodles…”

He watched her curiously as she rifled through their cupboards. “What are you even looking for, anyway?”

“Oh, I just thought I’d make them a nice breakfast, that’s all. As a sort of thanks for allowing us to stay here.”

“And because you like making breakfast.” Flowey’s voice was flat. People often pretended to do good deeds to benefit others, but he knew the truth. He’d seen it firsthand. Toriel, like everyone else, just wanted to benefit herself.

“Well, I suppose that’s true,” she murmured, still searching. “I wouldn’t be doing it if I didn’t enjoy it, would I? Hmm… ...but there’s not much to work with at all.”

He knew it. “If you didn’t _want_ to make breakfast, you wouldn’t.”

“Oh, I still would, dear,” Toriel contradicted him and herself, and it almost made him furious. “We all need it. It’s the most important meal of the day.”

“But you _just_ said--”

“Flowey, I know you do enjoy these moral conundrums and questions.” She’d turned around, hands on her hips as she surveyed the entirety of the kitchen. “But I don’t quite have time for that now. I think I need to find the nearest shop and get some food from there.”

“Oh,” he said. “Um… ...okay.”

Just then, he noticed Alphys emerging from her room. He couldn’t concentrate on anything else.

“I need to get ready before I go out, so you just stay with Alphys, all right? Don’t you _dare_ hurt her, and be good. I’ll be back shortly.”

“Don’t worry,” he reassured her. “I don’t care whether you live or die, so I’ll be fine!”

All she did was sigh as she moved out of the kitchen, in a hurry to get ready and out of the house. He watched her go with the perfected apathy of someone who’d learned not to care about her specifically, mind still on Alphys. He almost didn’t dare to acknowledge her directly. She hadn’t quite acknowledged him yet, either. He didn’t know what to do.

She was the first to speak. “Wow. What was _that_ all about?” Her voice was soft and her look was disheveled in general, but he flinched away from the sound of her voice like he had just touched a hot stove, eyes wide as he stared up at her. “She’s in a hurry, huh?”

It was clear from the ex-scientist’s appearance that she _wasn’t_ a morning person, and this was almost a refreshing change from Toriel’s near constant pep. He noted the heavy bags under her eyes, the glasses all askew, the messy lab coat that she had clearly been wearing this whole time, and the way she yawned as she made her way over to the hot fridge.

“You didn’t sleep well, did you?” She asked as she opened it up.

“Flowers don’t _need_ to…” But he knew she wasn’t buying it. “Well, no, I didn’t sleep at all after… ...that. But at least I look better than _you._ ”

She yawned again, pulling a container out of the hot fridge. “Mhm. I didn’t sleep, either…”

“It’s weird that Undyne isn’t up yet,” he noted.

“Yeah, she’s a pretty heavy sleeper sometimes.” She was going over to a cupboard and pulling a mug shaped like herself out of it, and it looked so ridiculous he almost laughed. “You wouldn’t think so, but she likes to be in such top physical shape… ...it’s _really_ something else.” She was staring into the distance now, her face flushed.

He groaned loudly. “You’re going to spill that drink all over yourself, moron.”

“O-Oh,” she exclaimed in surprise, “whoops! Thanks for… ...um, reminding me.”

“No problem. I swear, if _I_ didn’t kill you, you’d all just kill your--” He saw the pained look on her face, directed at him. She was probably still fixated on that ridiculous thing about him wanting to die last night, and he backtracked pretty fast. Monsters had pretty emotional reactions to things like that, and he just didn’t feel like dealing with it and her blubbering pity right now. “Anyway, what _is it_? The cup looks pretty ridiculous.” He tilted his head to look at it.

She looked surprised he’d even asked, but it did divert her attention. “Oh, this? Asgore gave it to me, it’s pretty cute and it was really nice of him actually--oh, um, I mean.” She looked uncomfortable. He rolled his eyes. “Anyway, it’s um. It’s coffee. Have you never had coffee before?”

“Ew, _no._ ” He stuck his tongue out. “I don’t even know what it is. Probably some stupid human anime drink or something, right?”

“Uh… ...kind of, sure.”

“I’m surprised you both don’t just drink his stupid flower tea. Actually, now that I think about it,” Flowey eyed the cupboards suspiciously, “that would be pretty… ...weird.”

She laughed, too. Why was everyone so amused with what he had to say today? “Hah, yeah, it is kind of weird,” she admitted, “with you right there and all… ...and um, the tea’s kind of nice…”

“How reassuring.”

“...but I really prefer coffee, especially when I’m tired. Tea’s too relaxing.”

“Really?” He watched her sip it. “What’s so special about it, then?”

She paused mid-sip and swallowed awkwardly. “You mean, why do I like it so much?”

“Yeah,” Flowey said with his eyes still on the cup. “Tea’s really special, I know that.”

“Aw, that’s--”

“So what’s special about the coffee?” He tried to see what it looked like. New things were so rare to come by, and even though he knew everything was bound to get boring eventually, they were still interesting up here on the surface.

“Well, um,” she stammered. “I-I guess the main reason I drink it is because it wakes you up.”

“...Really?” He was trying to peer over into it. “Can I try some?”

Alphys looked uncertain, but she always did that. “Oh, I don’t know, Flowey,” she sputtered, unwilling to look at him. “I mean… ...can you even… ...can you even drink anything?”

He raised an eyebrow. “What makes you think I can sleep, but not drink things? Some scientist _you_ are.”

“Hey, i-it’s our job to be curious, okay,” Alphys argued. “I had to know. Besides, I don’t think Toriel will be very happy with me if I--”

“Why do you care what _she_ thinks? She _fired_ you.”

“Yes, I know,” she sighed. “You can stop bringing that up now. I-I u-understand why she did, really.”

“Me too,” he agreed sweetly. “But I’m tired _too,_ you know. This isn’t fair.”

“Th-that’s probably true, but--”

“Why can’t I even have _any?_ ”

“W-Well--”

“What’s the worst that could happen?”

“Fine,” she eventually agreed. He knew she would. She was so weak, after all, and he was so annoying. “You can try some. But… but just a little bit, okay? I don’t want Toriel to find out and get… ...mad.”

“Fine with me! I won’t tell.”

She narrowed her eyes. “You _promise?_ ”

He smiled as innocently as he could manage. “I _swear._ ”

When she sighed again, she sounded almost resigned. “I _know_ this is a bad idea and I don’t trust you,” she said under her breath, “but what the heck! Can’t do any worse than I already have. Here you go. Just a sip.”

She raised the cup so carefully up to him, but her hand was trembling. Flowey stared down at it and found that it looked like tea, but darker. Steam floated up off of it and into his face. He took as big of a gulp of it as he could, just to defy her, and swallowed it without thinking. “Be careful,” she told him, too late after the fact, “it’s um, hot.”

“I _know_ that, okay. It came out of the _hot fridge._ Anyway, it’s _disgusting._ I don’t really get it at--oh.” He twitched. “That’s weird.”

“Haha, kind of different, huh?”

“I mean, it’s. Um.” Twitch. “Whoa. Why is my body moving like that?”

“It’s caffeine, Flowey. That’s what it does. Are you okay?”

Twitch, twitch, twitch. “I’m _great,_ ” he assured her, “or dying. Can I be both? Can I be great and dying, Alphys? You’re the scientist! You should know.”

She seemed nervous when she laughed again. Or maybe he was. Maybe he was nervous. There were so many reasons to be nervous right now, and they were all snapping into perfect focus, with a kind of clarity he’d never experienced before. “You’re not dying, Flowey. I-it’s okay. Probably. I… I hope. It probably’s just a little intense for you because you’re so… ...well, tiny.”

“That’s not very scientific,” he said, a little louder than he meant to. “That’s not very scientific; anyone knows that, Alphys. You’re just not a very good scientist. Am I moving? How fast am I moving? That’s what I hate about this dumb ol’ flowerpot, I can’t--”

“Oh, boy. Um.” She patted him and he flailed in response. “You’ll be okay, buddy, okay? Deep breaths with me. In and out, okay.”  She turned away and muttered under her breath. “Toriel is really going to kill me.”

His giggle was manic now, almost acting independently of him. “I hope she _does_ kill you! I hope she kills you a _million billion trillion_ times, because you know how she’d do it, is she’d get a fireball and she’d get another fireball and it wouldn’t be hard at _all_ ‘cuz she’s magic, and then she’d--then she’d _kill_ you and I’d laugh watching you get burnt to _cinders_ because it would be _hilaaaaarious._ I think about that all the time. It’s so _funny._ ”

“That’s a neat story, Flowey,” she said kindly. “But let’s just breathe, okay? Watch how I do it, then you go. In and out.”

“I hope we _all_ die,” he cackled.

“Okay, but--”

Thankfully, at that moment, something more interesting happened. Toriel was coming back out all ready for the day, and she’d brought someone with her. Alphys was still trying to motion for him to take deep and calm breaths, but she’d lost his attention; now he had to greet them, and he put all of his energy (which was a lot right now!) into doing so.

“Howdy, my most friendly friends! I’m just _kidding,_ ” he laughed. “I hate _both_ of you beyond any of your current understanding! You know why? Because you’re both the worst. Anyway, where are we going? Can I go? I’m going, right? I gotta go.”

Toriel was suspicious already. “We’re going to the nearest shop, remember? Frisk would like to tag along as well.”

“ _Ooohhh_ ,” he exclaimed, too loudly again. “What a surprise! It’s not like you’re practically attached at the hip to them or anything. I get it. But hey, you know, that’s water under a bridge or whatever, I go on _all_ of my adventures with Frisk now! Hey, pal. You ready to go to the shop and get some items??”

Frisk poked their head out from behind Toriel, and he could tell that they were as confused as she was. It made him laugh a little too wildly, which had the effect of bringing them out even further from behind her, approaching him and looking at him funny.

“That’s a yes, isn’t it?” He asked, still giggling. “Well, that’s just perfect!”

“Flowey,” Toriel said, “maybe it would be best if you stayed h--”

“What??” He whipped back around to face her with a speed that almost startled them both. “No! Come on, the first time I actually _want_ to go somewhere with all of you dolts and you’re trying to stop me from coming? That’s not _fair!!_ I’d love to go! It’ll be a real taste of human culture, and Frisk _especially_ knows we could use exposure to that! Huh, buddy?”

He hadn’t even turned back around to face them, but he _knew_ they would agree. “See! I told you. Frisk _loves_ the shop. They want to go, and they always want to take me with them practically _everywhere,_ so I know they want me to go now, too! I know how they work. I understand humans. Or well, this one. They’re not that difficult to understand because they’re just so--”

Toriel was rubbing her temples now, clearly resigned. Persistence could get him anywhere. “I suppose if you’d really like to, it’s unfair of me not to let you tag along.”

“ _Yes!_ ”

“But something about you does seem strange. Are you all right?” The amount of real concern she had in her eyes was unsettling to him, and he almost flinched back against it. Maybe he did. He couldn’t seem to get his body to stay completely still, which was especially weird, since he was a flower.

He laughed again, that fun and wild thing. “Oh, Toriel,” he trilled, “haven’t you noticed by now? I’m _always_ strange!”

She blinked. “Well, I suppose that’s true. Come on, then.”

She grabbed her purse first, some pathetic thing she’d stitched together out of love and purple thread or something with the Delta Rune symbol on it. Frisk picked Flowey up, and for once he was elated.

“Keep a close eye on me,” she said. “So you don’t get lost. All right?”

“Lost? We won’t get lost, I knew every single area in the Underground, and I can bet you almost anything that figuring the human world out’s gonna be a cinch too! You don’t have to worry as long as Frisk has me, I can--”

“Pay him no mind, child. Eyes on me.”

Frisk nodded.

They walked out the door.

“ **_FREEDOM!!_ ** ” Flowey shouted as loud as possible, trying to wriggle as much as he could to get out of Frisk’s arms.

“Frisk, do you have him?” He was getting a little hard to hold. He could feel Frisk’s fingers slipping, and was disappointed when they handed him over to Toriel instead.

“Oh, yes, okay. I can take--”

“I was so CLOSE!!” He yelled, and he was so loud that humans were starting to come out of their houses. “Did you see that? I almost had it! I could’ve done it! I could have hit the ground, and then--”

“You may tell yourself that if you like.”

He squirmed frantically then, trying to wriggle out of her arms too, but she had a tighter grip on the flowerpot than Frisk ever had. Her grip was stronger, and her claws were determined to hold on tight to him. “I still don’t get why you won’t just let me go,” he babbled, mind still abuzz as they walked down the sidewalk. “I mean, it would just make life so much _easier_ for _everybody!_ Aren’t you sick of me? Aren’t I _annoying?_ ” He giggled again. “I bet I’m annoying. Am I annoying if I do _this?_ ”

It was almost effortless for him to master Toriel’s voice and face by this point. He’d had so much practice, in the very beginning, when her voice was almost the only one he ever practiced… He’d listen to the echo flowers repeating messages back, repeating messages back, and he started to learn to leave ones for himself…

“‘My dear Asriel,’” he’d try, “‘I promise I will always--’”

But that was the past. Now was more important. Maybe the most important of all!

“‘Yes, Flowey, you are _so_ irritating,’” he hummed along in Toriel’s voice at high speed. “‘I almost can’t stomach the sight of you, and it’s quite obvious that I love Frisk too much to like anything that would hurt them at all! I definitely like Frisk better.’ How’s that? Is that--”

“Oh, it’s not annoying, dear.” Toriel was patient and steady as she walked with him, and far too slow. “And it’s certainly not true that seeing you alarms me so much.”

“That’s what you _say_ ,” he insisted, “to be _nice._ But we all know how you _really_ feel.”

“Whatever you say.”

“How’s this? Is this any better?” He made sure to get right in her face this time, imitating every single one of her facial features back at her as he crossed his eyes. “‘Oh, I’m Toriel, and I can’t even keep one single child safe! I know Frisk is going to die eventually, and long before me, so--’”

If she was uncomfortable at all, she barely showed it, turning calmly to look back at Frisk. “How are you doing, dear? Eyes on me, please!”

As usual, Frisk gave a thumbs up and smiled at her. They were almost caught up and right next to her now, and he made a face at them and giggled, too. Without hesitation, they made one back, smooching their face up like a fish and laughing at him. “Hey!”

He made another one back, imitating their usual stoic face. “Hurrhurr. We’ve both got eyes on you _now,_ Toriel! And mine are _so so so so so so so so so so so so so_ dumb!”

They laughed again and did what might have been an impression of him, but he couldn’t tell. They weren’t very good at making faces. Still, he thought it was best to pretend he was offended anyway. “Hey, Toriel! Do you know what your precious kid just _did?_ You’re not even good at faces, Frisk! You’re so bad I almost feel sorry for you, you little pint-sized amateur pipsqueak. _This_ is how you make faces. Which one’s better, huh?”

Frisk shrugged.

“Hey, Toriel! Which one’s better? You’re gonna say Frisk, aren’t you? That’s so unfair! You’re so biased! I knew it all along.” He glared at the ground.

She kept walking. He wondered how she could do that, purse slung over her shoulder and obnoxious flower in her arms. It was like it barely even fazed her at all, like she could handle almost anything he tried. He wiggled around again, but that was the extent of what he could do, and eventually even that became a little boring. Not really, though, because he couldn’t exactly _stop_ moving.

“Why are we going so slow?” He complained, giddiness apparent in his voice. “Why don’t we have one of those cars like everybody else? I know the one Papyrus has in his room is red, and I think we should get a car like that if we want to get anyplace. I wonder how a flower can drive a car? Humans look like they’re really good at it. Are we going to get a car? Ugh, you’re _sooooo_ slow!” He all but wilted for dramatic effect.

“Oh, maybe eventually,” she allowed. “But for now let’s just enjoy a pleasant walk like this. Isn’t it so lovely! Birds singing, sun shining…”

He tried to pay attention to the things she talked about. He really did. And all the things she said were true, he guessed. The sky was vast and blue above them, and all the things monsterkind as a whole had ever longed for were right at their fingertips now. The grass grew to the side of them, and he wondered how calm it was; it probably wasn’t awake as him, and that sucked for it. But it was almost _too_ calm and quiet, and he was so fidgety especially now, and he thought going to the shop would be such a great adventure, but--

He thought of one last thing. “Hey, Frisk,” he cackled, “c’mere for a second! Wow, you’re slow too. Why is _everything_ so slow? Whatever, I have the _best_ thing to show you! Do you trust me? Of course you don’t! That’d sure be _stupid_ of you. But--”

He was almost disappointed when Frisk stepped close so nonchalantly as if to shut him up. This should’ve been full of more persuasion and fun. But at least he could accomplish what he wanted to now.

“You _ready?_ ”

He didn’t wait for a response before he lunged. They anticipated this and tried to move out of the way, but weren’t quite quick enough. He smiled as his mouth met skin and made blood, and Toriel _wrenched_ him back with a startling speed and fury he hadn’t seen in a long while.

“What are you _doing?_ ” Toriel asked, but it sounded like an accusation. “Frisk, are you hurt?”

They blinked down at the bite mark on their hand, blood filling up jagged slice of skin.

Flowey howled with glee. “Savior of the _universe,_ ” he sneered, “and they can’t even handle a little bite mark! I can’t _believe_ you all trust and believe in them so much, but as soon as they so much as get a lousy booboo, you’re all so concerned!! What’s _wrong_ with all of you?”

Toriel gave him a fierce look he’d only ever seen in nightmares. It wasn’t enough to intimidate him, but it almost didn’t matter as she immediately turned her attention back to Frisk. “I _knew_ we shouldn’t have brought him. Frisk, do you need--”

They held up the other hand, calm and almost unfazed. He hadn’t expected any other reaction from Frisk, but they weren’t what he was focused on anyway. He expected that any minute now, she’d just have to set his flowerpot down so she could go tend to her adopted child, and from there he could work out a better plan. She was already moving towards them, grip loosening on it. If she just got a little closer, he _knew_ she would...

But Frisk shook their head, pointing towards Flowey as they fished a band-aid out of their pocket. This one was bright green, and it made the flower think of defeat in ways he hadn’t wanted to yet. With a ridiculous sort of carefulness and precision, they placed it over the bite, wincing a little as blood blossomed underneath.

“Oh, of course... Flowey.” Toriel muttered distantly, regaining her hold on the flowerpot. “Are you _sure_ you’re all right, my child?”

Frisk nodded and continued on, giving her a reassuring smile.

“Aw, _come on!!_ ” Flowey exclaimed. “You didn’t even _drop_ me! I can’t believe you didn’t even--oh, oh, I’ve got it! I’ll just bite _you._ Then you’ll have to let me go, and I’ll be so _free!!_ I’m so excited… think of the places I’ll go without any of _you!_ ”

The former queen’s voice was colder when she spoke to him again, gripping his flowerpot even tighter than before. “You won’t be going _anywhere,_ and if we need to, we’ll muzzle you.”

“That’s for _dogs,_ silly,” Flowey dismissed, giggling again. “Not flowers!! You’re all just so dumb. I think it’s so funny! Are we there yet? Huh? Huh? Huh? Are we--”

“We will do what is necessary, whether you’re a dog or not.” She assured him with probably the most stern and authoritative voice she could muster up. “And I will warn you now that this may be your last trip out with us, if you cannot behave.”

“What a load of _shit,_ ” he snarled, more aggressive than he’d expected himself to be. “It’s not even my _fault!!_ Alphys is the one who gave me _coffee._ I’m all over the place! Seriously, do you guys not notice, ‘cuz everything is so fucking slow to me right now and I feel like I might actually die! Not that I wouldn’t welcome it at this point. Do you not even _know_ me? Maybe I’m this way all the time or--”

“Coffee?” Toriel stopped and looked down at him. “Alphys gave you _coffee?_ ”

“Oh, wait, fuck,” he lilted in response. “I wasn’t supposed to tell you _that._ ”

“...You weren’t.” Her voice was dry and flat. She was clearly unamused.

“Nope,” he sang. “She told me _not_ to! She said you’d **_kill her_ ** , which I totally think you should do by the way, ‘cuz you’re super capable of it and she’s like the worst scientist in the whole entirety of the universe, I told her you’d send your fireballs after her and she--”

Toriel sighed, clearly exasperated. “I’m not going to kill her, Flowey.”

“What, really? But you don’t look very _happy_ with what she--”

“I’m certain you manipulated your way into this somehow.”

Frisk had stopped too, but they were a little ways ahead, looking back with concern.

“Come back over here, darling,” Toriel called out. “This will be an important lesson for you as well.”

Ugh. Flowey grimaced. If there was one thing he absolutely couldn’t stand--and there were many, his life was obviously suffering--it was Toriel’s insistence on turning everything into some sort of lesson. That was probably expected of someone who wanted to be a _teacher,_ of all things, but it was irritating nonetheless. Especially when they hadn’t even made it to the goddamn store yet.

“Noooo, _no,_ ” he tried to insist. “We’ve all learned our lesson here, and besides, you have to make _breakfast,_ huh? Let’s just all forget about this and keep going and then later on we can all yell at Alphys for being such a loser--”

“I will do no such thing,” Toriel said, voice and hold on the flowerpot firm. “Frisk--”

They were there, looking attentive and curious now. He made another face.

“Now, I want you _both_ to focus on me. No faces."

   
“Really, Toriel?” Flowey chirped, contorting his face again. “Not even _this--_ ”

“I said **_no._ ** ” Despite himself and the fact that he knew she wouldn’t dare hurt him now, it was enough to shut Flowey up for a second. “Very good. I know that you will never listen to me, Flowey, but Frisk will, and this is _very_ important.”

“Pfffft,” he scoffed. “Right, like drinking coffee is a _criminal offense_ \--”

“Frisk,” Toriel continued on, ignoring the contrary plant. “Do not, under any circumstances, drink coffee. All right? You’re far too young, and it’s so terrible for you. If you feel the need for a hot beverage, tea is always a better alternative.”

“Hah! Tea has _nothing_ on this stuff. I feel all jittery and floaty all at once!”

“You do for _now,_ ” she cautioned him, locking eyes with both of them. “But you will crash in time and regret your choice.”

“Wait, what?” His eyes widened. “Am I _actually_ going to die? Fuck _you,_ Alphys! I _knew_ I couldn’t trust that yellow sweaty freak as far as I could throw her, and I can throw her pretty far!”

Frisk was looking at him in horror, tears filling their eyes. They grabbed for the flowerpot, nearly crushing Flowey against their chest with a might he sometimes forgot they possessed as they sniffled brokenly.

“Augh, _Frisk!!_ You’re getting your tears all _over_ me! This isn’t how I want to spend my _last moments ever_ before coffee ends my tragic life! Get _off!_ ”

They wailed, still holding the flowerpot close to their chest.

Toriel was already trying to backtrack. “What? Oh, no, no, no! Don’t be silly. Stop this now!”

“Yeah, _right,_ ” Flowey’s own voice was cracking now. He was filled to the brim with horror and chose to express it the same way he always would. “You don’t have to fucking _pity_ me or say that just for Frisk’s benefit, okay? They’ll be _glad_ when I go!”

Tears were streaming down their face.

“I mean, they _should_ be,” he corrected himself. “Maybe not immediately, but listen, it’s better off for everyone that I went this way, just tell Alphys that if I could I’d string her up by her nervous dino innards and keep her alive just to listen to her _scream_ . And Frisk, listen. I know you don’t want to hear this, but you _can’t_ bring me back to life, okay? If I go, th--”

“No, please! Both of you, listen to me!”

Frisk was howling with sorrow, still practically crushing him.

“Don’t be gross! I won’t even miss you, you stupid idiot. I just don’t want you ruining everything you’ve already--”

“Flowey is _not_ going to die!” Toriel shouted. Several people had turned to look at her, and when she noticed, she blushed and shied away from them slightly. “So sorry… ...children, you know how it is.”

“Hey! I’m _not_ a--wait. Really?”

Frisk glanced up at her, snot running down their disgusting human face.

“Really,” she confirmed. “I’ll admit that both of your positions are unique; I only know that it’s not good for monster children, not anything else. But it’s just not good to consume it, that’s all.”

“Why didn’t you say so? You just let me believe I was about to _die!!_ Look what you did to Frisk! You’re a _terrible_ person! Wow!”

They were still staring up at Toriel with wide and tearful eyes.

“You didn’t understand what I was saying, Flowey,” she elaborated, staring both of them right in the eyes again. “When I say you will crash, I don’t mean that you will _die._ I only mean that this high you feel is _temporary._ It cannot last.”

Oh. So _that’s_ how they were going to do this. He looked defiant in the face of her claims. “Yeah, _right,_ ” he boasted. “Have you even _seen_ me today? I’m practically invincible! I feel _amazing_ , especially now that I know I’m _not_ dying! Maybe it works different for humans and monsters, but I think you’re just saying that so Frisk won’t do it! She’s keeping this from you, you know. She doesn’t want you to realize how _powerful_ you are.”

“If you will not listen to me, you will figure it out on your own. Look both ways, Frisk. We’re about to cross a street.” Now she was walking again. “Stay close to me, please.”

The human child looked both ways dutifully, having evidently recovered from thinking their flower friend was about to kick the bucket and wiped their nose on a tissue in their pocket. When they crossed, they kept their eyes on the road ahead, barely frightened at all.

You couldn’t say the same for the others. Flowey wasn’t used to the cars yet. Toriel wasn’t either, but she’d brushed up on basic etiquette pretty quickly. He could tell her face was uncertain as she crossed with Frisk by her side and Flowey in her arms, but she was speechless and focused.

“I take it all back,” Flowey hissed in blatant terror, burying his head into her. “I don’t want a car, I never want to see another car _again!! Shit, shit, shit, shit, fuck--_ ”

And just like that, they were on the other side.

Toriel’s grip loosened slightly. To Flowey’s embarrassment, she was even patting him gently now. “There, there. We made it across. This is something that humans do regularly, isn’t it, Frisk? So it should be no problem for us.”

“Huh? I… I’m alive still? Golly!” He cracked an eye open.

“That is right. We are safe now.”

“Oh,” he murmured. “Well then, uh.” He pulled away from her as quickly as he could, clearly flustered. “Forget this! Don’t even worry about it, okay? I--I was just--I mean, I just--hey! What’s that over there?? Is it a shop??”

“I am unsure,” Toriel admitted. “I have yet to go to any of these.”

“Doesn’t look like any shop _I’ve_ seen. It’s too big.”

As he said the words, they suddenly felt like lead in his mouth. Suddenly the flower found that he was struggling to even remain upright, and as Frisk nodded he felt terribly uninterested. The thought of going to the shop had once seemed so promising, but it was repulsive to him now, and when he buried his face into Toriel again it was almost involuntary.

“Urgh,” he groaned.

Toriel chuckled lightly and patted him again. He couldn’t react. “There it is, hm? The crash.”

“I thought you were just making it up,” he moaned as he shut his eyes.

“Now, why would I do something like that?”

“I ‘unno,” he mumbled, fur in his mouth. “To fuck with me or somethin’.”

“I know you are a foolish flower,” she said, and her voice was so soft again. “But you cannot possibly be _that_ foolish…”

“Mm.”

He was distantly aware of sounds all around them. There was, most notably, a sort of unfamiliar clanging that should’ve made him spring to attention. He was too exhausted and let it happen, resting against Toriel still. People all around were talk, talk, talking. He wished they’d shut up.

“Oh, dear,” Toriel said a little louder, and then her voice was so soft again. “Flowey, I do hate to do this to you. I know you didn’t get a decent amount of rest. But do you think you will be okay with Frisk for a moment? They cannot do this task by themselves. I ought to help.”

“Mm,” he whined again, cracking one eye open. “I don’t care… I don’t care about _anything._ ”

“All right, dear,” she cooed softly. “I know. Here we go.”

She passed him over to Frisk, who was not nearly as soft. “Rrgh.”

He tried to rest against their sweater anyway but found that it was too awkward with their height and size. When even _that_ failed, he had no choice but to try to perk up, and he found the world to be too bright and awash in white colors. “Fuck,” he grumbled, “what the fuck?”

“On the front it said, ‘Target,’” Toriel filled him in kindly. He saw her pushing something along beside them. “I do not think that sounds like a shop, but I suppose it is.”

“Are you _kidding?_ ” Flowey complained, blinking into the harsh light. All around them, humans were bustling around pushing the same thing on wheels that she was; all around them, they made the most terrible noises, and it made him want to just retreat back into the ground and never come back up again. “Humans can’t even name their shops right.”

“It _is_ rather strange,” Toriel agreed. “But remarkable, too. Look at all these items!”

If he had been able to care at that moment, he might have found it impressive. Shops Underground _had_ been properly named, at least, but they only had a few items at best. Most of the items were homemade by the owners themselves, and though the shops had a cozier charm than this, they were cramped and stuffy spaces most of the time. This was barely a shop in that sense. In fact, it almost barely resembled one at all. But he could tell, even in his tired haze, that this shop had more than they could have ever dreamed.

“I don’t even _recognize_ so many of these items,” she gasped. “What are they all for?”

Frisk saw that she was happy and beamed in response. He was still so tired it all barely mattered to him, and he kept leaning towards Frisk on accident. They still tried their best to support him, even though they weren’t nearly big enough to support him, and it almost made him feel worse.

“Oh, little one,” She ruffled their hair again. “You’ll have to tell me all about it _all_ someday…”

They looked so eager to do it, too.

“Now, if you would be so kind as to help me find the snails.”

Now they looked uncomfortable, blinking up at her.

“What is it, my child? Do you know where they are? I am planning on making breakfast.”

After a moment, they just shook their head.

“Oh. Well, that is all right,” she reassured them. “I’m certain I can find them on my own! Though it might take a while…” She surveyed the surroundings carefully, pushing the cart along. “Come along, both of you.”

“Please,” Flowey sighed, wilting dramatically again. “ _No…_ I _hate_ it here.”

“Oh, Flowey,” Toriel said absent-mindedly. “I know you are tired, but you will rest soon.”

“Flowers don’t _need_ to sleep,” he murmured, as his blinking took too long.

“Mhm.” She was wandering down an aisle aimlessly, and it didn’t even seem to be stocked with foodstuff. He glared up at strange red boxes filled with some form of chemicals, looking up at Frisk for clarification. They only shrugged again. “Oh, look at this! It has a little bird on it, Frisk. How adorable.”

No one saw what she meant. He was trying to wriggle away again, desperately, to freedom. He was too tired, though, and kept giving up and resting against Frisk’s arm. “I just need to,” he panted, “get _out_ of--”

Frisk shook their head, and he whined again.

“Ugh, Frisk, why do you have to ruin my _life?_ ”

They only shook their head again, and then the look on their face changed. He knew what they usually did to him when they had that look on their face, and he was wary. It was happy, to be sure; he would never see Frisk unhappy to be in a place as terrible as _this._ But there was a mischievous glint in their eyes that he wasn’t sure he liked, same as it was when they had sprinkled the grass all over him, and he was wary.

“Oh, no,” he protested. “I’m not going on some kind of ridiculous adventure with you, Frisk.”

The smile was still on their lips as they pressed a finger up against them, as if telling him to be quiet.

“Frisk, I’m not in the _mood._ I’m too tired. I don’t want to--I just want to--”

But it was too late. They were already sneaking off quietly with him in their hands, and when they were far enough away from Toriel, they _ran._ It was actually kind of alarming to be stuck in a flowerpot without any kind of real grip, and he cursed as their shoes squeaked against the polished floor. “What are you _doing?_ Be _careful,_ dummy! Frisk!”

They laughed with a sort of wild abandon, and for a moment, it startled him. For a moment, there it was again, there _they_ were again in Frisk’s place. Chara laughing wildly as they dragged him into whatever fun adventure they had planned that day, glowing and happy for one moment in their life, and it was so unsettling that he didn’t know how to react. Still, just like that, the moment passed; Frisk was Frisk, and as they skidded expertly to a stop, he hated them even more for it.

This time, it made him feel wobbly and strange. “I just want,” he tried.

His voice was shaking.

“I’m just so,” he said again.

“I just want to get _out_ of here,” he sobbed.

Frisk patted him gently.

“I’m _so tired,_ ” he cried. “Please, why won’t anyone let me go…”

They were pointing a finger outwards. His eyes followed it, and he knew they’d be welling up with tears if they were capable of it. Instead, they landed upon the reason Frisk had brought him here, and his face changed the moment he saw it.

“...home?”

It was more beautiful than he could have ever imagined.

“Never mind,” he breathed.

In front of them was the most candy he’d ever seen. He couldn’t identify any of it at all, but he knew that was what it was. A sugary spectrum lined the whole aisle, and the whole thing smelled sweet and faintly of bread (which must have been nearby). Some of it was chocolate, which Chara had liked best; others must have been other things, things monsters had never had. There had only been one or two brands of candy in the entire Underground, and here before them were multitudes.

Frisk saw the look on his face and grinned.

“Frisk,” he managed, “what _is_ this?”

They laughed and ran right up to it all, holding him up a little so he could take in all the sights. He couldn’t even comprehend most of it; some of them boasted titles he’d never heard of before, others seemed familiar but were in some strange way different. He could scarcely decide what looked more appealing, and his mouth watered as he thought about it all at once.

“Okay, listen,” he said after a moment, attempting to whisper. “We have to be sly about this, Frisk. You grab as much of it as you can in your tiny little hands and stuff it all into this flowerpot. I’ll do my best to hide it. We have to be _quick,_ ‘cuz there’s no way we can take _all_ of it, but if we can figure out just the essentials I’m pretty sure we’ll have enough candy to at _least_ last us a week. If anyone catches us, we **_kill them horribly._ ** No witnesses. Got it?”

But they shook their head firmly.

“What? _Hurry,_ or this won’t work!”

But they shook their head firmly again.

“Friiiii _isk_ ,” he griped. “Why don’t you ever let me have any _actual_ fun?”

They pointed a finger out again, directing his eyes. It took a second, but eventually he saw what they were pointing towards: a box of some kind of cinnamon candy, and something claiming to be butterscotch. He blinked.

“Well, Toriel can just make that for us at home,” he said. “We want to go with something _really_ special, like… ...uh.” He scanned the shelves for anything noteworthy, and a colorful bag caught his eye. “Like this. I bet since it’s got ‘war’ in it, it’s _extra_ good, right?”

They glanced at it, then shook their head.

“What? You _have_ to get the candy _I_ want!”

He watched as they badly mimed eating the candy, then made some kind of strange and puckered up face like the fish face from earlier. He had no idea what they were talking about, but it sure was stupid.

“No, you have to, because I’ve had candy longer than you. I know _best,_ Frisk.”

They shook their head again, flat out refusing to take it.

“Fine,” he said. “If _you_ won’t take it, I’ll take it _myself_ !!” He started to reach out to grab the bag with his teeth, but Frisk stepped backwards. “Rrgh. That’s not _fair!_ That’s **_cheating!!_ ** You can’t _do_ that! I will **_SLAUGHTER YOU ALL OVER AGAIN,_ ** as soon as I figure out how!”

That had gotten the attention of several people in the shop. He ignored their gaping as he tried to strain to reach it. “I will _rip you limb from limb,_ do you understand? And unlike all the other people who are _sure_ to have mangled you a time or two, I won’t show any mercy! I’ll watch you die and I’ll laugh and _laugh._ I’ll watch everyone you love fall to pieces over your death with a _smile_ on my face. And when they ask me why, I’ll tell them! ‘Frisk didn’t get the right candy,’ and they’ll all--”

They were waving another candy in his face, now.

“What’s that?”

He inspected the little black packet. It had little explosions on it, maybe. “Are these _dangerous?_ Are you trying to tell me you humans had weaponized candy _this whole time?_ To counteract our healing, I bet. Golly! No wonder Chara was like that.”

Frisk laughed in his face, shaking their head again.

“No? Well, that’s kind of disappointing, huh?”

They pointed towards the actual words on the packet, and he read them out loud.

“‘Taste the explosion,’” he read. “This still feels like a weapon, Frisk.”

They pointed again at different words.

“Oh! Popping candy. Wait, that doesn’t explain anything--”

Point, point.

“Cotton candy. So it’s… ...cotton inside there? Why do humans make _candy_ out of cotton? You’re so _gross._ ” He stuck his tongue out for emphasis. “How does cotton _pop,_ anyway? This isn’t making any sense.”

Frisk sighed and tried to mime eating the candy again. This time, they made little popping noises with their tongue. It wasn’t as effective of a visual as it could’ve been, but Flowey was starting to get tired again, and they needed to pick something and go.

“You know what? Fine. I’ll get this candy. But it better not make me explode, or else.”

His human companion just moved along happily, taking a single butterscotch candy for themselves and placing both the candies delicately inside the flowerpot.

“Good job, Frisk,” he whispered. “Now we just have to get out of here without--”

They shook their head again, fishing a few gold coins out of their pocket he hadn’t even noticed they’d had. “We’re _paying? Why?_ I’m sure between the both of us, we could easily--”

“Like, stop! Hold it right there, kid in a striped shirt.”

The voice was familiar, and he wasn’t wearing any striped shirt anymore, but Flowey started when he heard it anyway. “ _Run!_ ”


	6. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, here it is, folks!! <3; We're up to the point where I'm writing all this in real time, so it might take a little longer, but I hope you enjoy this anyways.

Frisk didn’t, of course. Instead, they seemed glad to hear the voice, and even started walking towards it. “What are you _doing,_ Frisk? I said _run!!_ We’re obviously in trouble, and this is a situation where if you _wanted to,_ you could just flee! Can you still see the buttons? Flee! _Flee_ \--”

“Hey, I know you,” said the owner of the voice.

Flowey glanced up at such a towering being in bright red and noticed a silent partner beside them. “Frisk, these guys are _always_ trying to kill me. We should really leave--”

“Kill you? Like, why would we do that?” The former Royal Guard asked, looking honestly puzzled. “We _love_ this kid! They helped us accept ourselves. And our love.”

His partner nodded stoically, grabbing his hand.

Frisk squeaked and blushed with joy. Flowey raised an eyebrow, then rolled his eyes.

“Plus, like, Target is _super_ inclusive right now and stuff,” explained the first Guard. “They’re one of the few shops in the area that’s like, totally hiring monsters without discrimination. It’s actually sort of, I don’t know, cool? Haha, yeah.”

The more Flowey thought about it, the less intimidating these monsters seemed. In place of the usual intimidating Royal Guard uniforms were bright red shirts and khaki pants and despite their bulky appearances they didn’t look fierce at all anymore. Unbelievably, they were both wearing name tags.

“‘Hi, my name is… ...01.’” He read. “‘Hi, my name is 02.’ Wow, that’s a change for you both.”

“I guess,” 01 admitted. “But ever since we went free, we’re like, opening up a new chapter of our lives. It’s pretty cool being able to be bros who also love each other a lot, haha. With fancy new jobs. We don’t even kill _anyone_ at this one. Pretty weird.”

“What, not _anybody?_ Don’t you ever _miss it?_ ” He stared at them with awe.

“Like, no, little flower bro. We don’t usually want to kill anything, I dunno.”

“Weird,” he said. “Not even the _really_ terrible people?”

“Of course not, man. The customer’s always right.”

“...01.” Their partner finally spoke.

“Oh, yeah,” 01 said, as if it were obvious. “Listen, guys, someone’s looking for you right now. We were charged with looking for you and bringing you back. Weird how we’re always looking for you, huh?”

Frisk nodded with a certain understanding, following both of them happily through the maze of people and wheeled carts. Occasionally, they would give another monster a knowing glance; Flowey suspected that they, too, knew everyone in the entire Underground.

Not as well as he did, though. Not nearly.

Unfortunately, the exhaustion set in again almost as soon as Toriel came back into view. It was pretty funny how scared she looked still; as soon as her eyes landed on both of them, she rushed up to greet them again. “Oh, thank goodness! I was so _worried._ ”

She crushed Frisk in a hug. This meant he was crushed, too.

“Of course I thought to text you, but, well, the darn thing won’t work up here! So I was looking all over for you both, and I simply couldn’t find you. Luckily, I ran into these gentlemen, and they helped me locate you. I am _so_ relieved.”

“Toriel,” he muttered. “You’re crushing _both_ of us.”

“Oh, I’m sorry!” She pulled away. “I am just so happy to see you both again. Thank you so much for your help, 02 and… ...01.”

“It’s no problem, ma’am,” said 01 awkwardly. “But er, if it wouldn’t be too much trouble, would you like, mind… ...filling out a customer survey? Target is like, really interested in everyone’s individual experiences with its overall brand, and like, we’re really trying to make a home together here on the surface.”

“Certainly,” Toriel said politely. “I have had the most wonderful time here. Well, up until I lost my child and their friend, I suppose. But these things happen, don’t they?”

“I guess,” 01 said. “But uh, glad to hear you had a good Target experience overall!”

“Oh, it’s been lovely,” she assured him. “”Just wonderful! I do have one minor complaint if you do not mind that.”

“...Is it about the snails?”

“Er, yes,” Toriel said. “How on earth did you know?”

“Yeah, we’ve like, been getting complaints about that a lot,” 01 said. “It like, turns out that Target doesn’t actually _carry_ snails? I know that’s like, not really what you want to hear, and I’m totally sorry.”

“Really! That is so strange.”

“Right? 02 was like, totally ranting about it the other day.”

It was difficult to imagine 02 ranting about _anything._ The guy hadn’t even said a word outside of his partner’s name, and they’d known him for awhile. Still, something must have shifted ever so slightly in his calm demeanor, because 01 patted him on the back gently.

“I know, bro,” he said. “I know. Sorry about that. It just gets him all riled up, y’know?”

Even Toriel was looking at him with a raised eyebrow, and she’d scarcely known him. “I… I completely understand. But it is not your fault at all. Do you know where I may purchase snails, if not from here? This is my first experience with a shop like this. I don’t quite know my way around!”

“Well, like,” the former Guard spoke after a moment of thought. “We keep hearing that there are like, competitors somehow? Like, other shops that want to do a better job than we do at selling items?”

“My goodness, really? Why do they want that?”

“Like, we have no idea,” 01 confessed. “The world above ground is still like, really new to us too, so we don’t get it either. But uh, you might want to check one of those out for an authentic snail experience or whatever in the future. One of them’s a wall or something.”

“A wall… How odd! Well, thank you so much for your help regardless! I will be more than happy to recommend you to--”

“ _Listen,_ ” Flowey moaned, eyes heavy all over again. “We don’t have all day. Can we please _go_ now?”

Toriel paused and remembered herself. “Oh, yes! Certainly. I just need to pay for these items.”

“Items?” Flowey asked. “You actually _bought_ some things? I thought they didn’t have what you wanted.”

“Oh, they didn’t,” Toriel responded cheerfully. “But just look at all the things they _did_ have!”

Flowey leaned over to peer into the red cart. He was surprised to find that there was a vast assortment of items inside, all stacked haphazardly on top of one another and with no obvious order. A lot of the items were unrecognizable to him. Some of them, maybe, were for babies or dogs.

“Yeah,” he spoke after a moment. “That’s… ...really… ...something. Did you at least get _actual_ breakfast?”

“Of course I did, dear. I wouldn’t go to all this trouble not to get breakfast!”

“You know what? I’ll take your word for it.”

“Hold on just a moment.” Toriel did some peering of her own into his flowerpot. “What is all this?”

“It’s Frisk’s fault,” Flowey blurted out in defense. “They’re the one who took me over to see all the candy, blame _them_ \--”

“Candy?”

Frisk looked down at him, clearly anxious to see what Toriel would think. It was all their fault, anyway; if they’d just taken off without approval or permission, this wouldn’t even be a problem. They were so reliant on what other people thought and had such strange moral standards. Flowey couldn’t relate.

“Butterscotch candy!” Toriel exclaimed. “Oh, I’m not at all surprised. Of course you can have some, my child.” She was positively beaming. “I didn’t know they had such a thing. And… ...what’s this other one? Popping candy?”

“It was Frisk’s idea,” Flowey continued to insist.

“‘Taste the explosion,’” she read, raising an eyebrow. “This sounds dangerous. And much more like _you,_ Flowey.”

“Frisk _picked_ it for me!” He protested, then glared at Frisk in response. “I tried to see if humans had weaponized candy, and they said _no._ Talk to them about it. I just wanted the Warheads.”

“...Warheads? Oh my.” She looked genuinely surprised now, then turned to Frisk. “Child, you know you cannot let Flowey near such things. I’m surprised; you should know much better. And humans should not sell such things in shops or put them in reach of children.”

Frisk was looking embarrassed and shaking their head.

“Uh, Ma’am, don’t mean to interrupt,” said 01. “But like, we’ve had some confusion over this lately too, and it like, turns out that the candies don’t _actually_ explode or do any war stuff or whatever?”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I know it’s like, kind of weird,” he sympathized. “But it turns out that’s just like, how humans name things. We don’t get it either.”

“How strange,” Toriel mused. “Well, I suppose Frisk would never put us in harm’s way…”

They nodded their head enthusiastically in response. Flowey nearly gagged.

“All right, then. Flowey is allowed his popping candy. But I have no idea why you’d want such a thing! Butterscotch candy is _clearly_ the better choice.”

“Pfft. I don’t even _care._ I just want to go.”

“You know how impatient children can be,” she murmured as she rummaged around in her purse. “Now, how many gold coins do you need?”

“I’m _not_ a--”

But Frisk was giggling.

“Oh, shut up, Frisk.”

“Yeah, we’re all trying to adjust, Ma’am,” 01 was saying. “Sorry about this.”

“It’s no problem at all!”

After a minute of some kind of transaction, it seemed like Toriel was finally ready to go. Flowey examined her items with an even more critical eye as they headed towards the exit, eyeing several snail-related toys he suspected were for Frisk. Frisk barely even _liked_ toys; Frisk was barely interested at all! He thought this was unfair, just like everything else. Still couldn’t see the breakfast, though, but at least it was probably better than snails.

Someone was there to bid them farewell on their way out. They could recognize them from the MTT Resort.

“Thank you _so_ much for choosing to shop at Target,” they said. “Have a nice day!”

Frisk smiled kindly at them as they went, still carrying a grouchy flower.

“Oh,” they said. “I know you--”

“Yeah, everyone does,” Flowey chirruped. “And don’t worry -- we won’t!”

When the automatic doors shut, he finally felt free again.

In a way.

He still wasn’t allowed to budge, but as they walked home with Frisk carrying him and Toriel pushing the red cart full of junk, he found he didn’t really want to. His head was remembering how heavy it felt, occasionally swaying and leaning on Frisk again. At least this way he was getting right in their face.

“Flowey, I’m so sorry you’re so tired, but we will be home soon.”

“Don’t worry ‘bout it,” he slurred. “Flowers don’t _need_ \--”

He was cut off again by the utter terror of crossing the street. This time, though, he had Frisk, and they walked purposefully and silently without any fear. This time, his eyes were frozen on Toriel’s cart, which made the most hideous noises on the asphalt alongside the sound of the human cars, and it was just awful. This time, she looked just as terrified as him, but they got through to the other side without incident.

“Golly,” he breathed. “I really hate that.”

“We all do, dear,” Toriel admitted.

Frisk looked unfazed, walking along peacefully and carefully and still smiling at both of them with reassurance. The flower was able to pay more careful attention to little details to keep from getting bored on the way home, and he noticed something about the way Frisk walked.

“You still avoid the leaves, huh?”

Frisk nodded, sidestepping to avoid a leaf that had fallen off a tree somewhere. It was kind of like the Ruins, in a way. He knew Toriel would be familiar with the sight; leaves were always falling off of the tree she’d had at home. He wondered why there were so many around here, and mostly shrugged it off.

“Do you _like_ stepping in the leaves?” He asked, wearing a mischievous grin.

Frisk nodded.

“Then why don’t you?”

All they did was shake their head, avoiding another pile on the sidewalk.

He frowned. “I just don’t understand you, Frisk.”

It was getting harder to keep himself upright again. Occasionally, he would even have to stifle a yawn, which was just embarrassing. Frisk carried him along without complaint or comment, thankfully, but he hated for them to see him in such a state of weakness. Normally he would’ve been too repulsed to allow it to happen, but everything he saw and felt was just too heavy for one flower… ...for one _anything._

When they finally arrived back at the house, Toriel went to work immediately making breakfast. Frisk set him up on the usual windowsill and happily helped her with whatever they could manage, looking pleased. They unpacked groceries together, and Flowey knew it was the perfect picture of bonding and just couldn’t stomach it.

He couldn’t even pay attention to what was being made, mostly staring into the distance or blinking a little too long. There _was_ light in the kitchen, but it felt cozier than it had outside, and his mind was wandering in strange ways. It couldn’t help but drift back to all that Alphys had known and said, even with all of the different and stupid misadventures of the day, and as usual, he sat with the knowledge alone. He wondered when she would greet him again, or what she would say.

He wondered what she would do to keep her promise.

“Welcome back, losers,” Undyne called off in the distance. “You were gone for awhile! Is everything okay??”

“Oh, yes,” Toriel tried to shout back, but her voice was so soft. “Everything’s just fine, dear. We have a surprise for you both, so don’t come out yet. Did you sleep well?”

“A surprise?? That’s awesome!!” Undyne shouted. “And yeah, I slept like a baby! But stronger. Alphys has been in her lab all day, though!”

Her lab. Huh.

His tired eyes drifted towards the door she’d walked out of earlier.

“That is all good news, I suppose.”

“Yeah! Just trying to figure out how to practice fighting without wrecking our house now!”

“Be careful!”

“Pff, of _course_ I--”

There was a big crash in the distance.

“...Oops.”

Toriel winced and sighed. “Come here, Frisk. Help me see if this is the right temperature.”

Obediently, they did. He was too bored of her cheer and humming and Frisk’s… ...ways, and was remained focused on the lab (when he could focus on _anything)_. “What’s she working on?” He tried. His voice sounded more tired than he’d wanted it to.

Undyne scoffed. “Like I know! She’s always working on geeky stuff I don’t understand. _It’s so great!! I totally support her passion!_ ” There was another crash. “Whoops.”

He rolled his eyes. Even if they tried to keep him here, they’d probably have to move soon. That, at least, could serve as a small comfort. He wondered how many of her own personal items she’d have to replace. What an idiot.

Eventually, breakfast was ready. Frisk and Toriel looked equally proud of it, and Toriel sat at the table looking confident in what she had made. He didn’t get to see it up close until Frisk brought him over, but by now he felt so out of it, he almost didn’t register it.

“Undyne,” Toriel called. “Our surprise is ready! Fetch Alphys too, please.”

“Can do!”

If he could only stay upright…

(He heard her bolting down the stairs.)

Long enough to…

(“Hey, Alphys, guess what! We have a surprise! Yeah, Toriel did it all. Come on!”)

...see what she was up to…

They both entered the room.

“Wow! Breakfast!! Thanks so much, Toriel. **_It looks delicious!!_ ** ” Undyne yelled with the usual dramatic flair as she took a seat at the table. “But you know, I could’ve made _you_ guys breakfast, if you wanted.”

“Yeah,” Alphys murmured, clearly out of it. “It looks… ...um, great. Thanks, Toriel. Your Majesty. I mean, uh--”

“You are most welcome,” she said graciously.

“But um, Undyne, all we had are noodles. I don’t think that would’ve been a very good breakfast.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” she admitted. “I guess it was a good thing after all! What does Frisk think? It’s human food, right?”

Frisk gave an enthusiastic thumbs up.

Flowey glanced at it. It was just oatmeal, but it felt so warm, and the steam rose up to his face again. It had been difficult not to feel cozy before, but now it was almost impossible, and he looked around the table. “Well, I think it looks terrible,” he announced. “I’m not eating it.”

Then he fell asleep for a second.

“Oh, dear,” a voice said distantly. “Flowey?”

He heard it and could not respond.

“Frisk, make sure he doesn’t get it all over,” Toriel was instructing.

He felt their hands on him, trying to keep him upright.

“Urgh,” he mumbled. “What?” He blinked back into existence. “What were we talking about? Something stupid, right?”

Alphys was looking at him with sympathy, and he could see how tired she was. Maybe even more than him.

Undyne wasn’t, sneering beside her and looking suspicious. “Yeah, right,” she laughed. “No one’s buying this, right? He’s just tricking us! Flowers don’t _need_ to sleep.”

“That’s _right,_ ” he agreed faintly, as he nodded off again. “Mm.”

“I don’t know about that, Undyne,” Alphys whispered. “He seems really tired.”

“Pfft. Hey, wait a minute, so do you. Alphys, did you not sleep again?”

“Well, I’ve just been--I’ve been working on some things.”

“Oh, Alphys,” Undyne chided affectionately, “when will you learn that you have to get some rest? I mean, look at this stupid plant. I still think he’s _faking_ it, but you gotta sleep, okay?”

“All right, Undyne.”

“Okay. I care about you, and I don’t want you to be tired.”

“Okay.”

“But eat breakfast first, ‘cuz Toriel made it, and it looks good.”

“Yeah. Listen, um, does anyone want to carry Flowey to bed, or--”

“Don’t need to,” he mumbled. “I don’t  _have_ a bed. Plus, I’m up.” He perked up. “See? Told you guys. I’m fine!”

Frisk was looking at him with concern; so was Toriel. He hated it.

“I’m fine! Totally awake. I’m totally, totally…”

He drooped again, all petals drooping with him.

“I think not,” Toriel said, soft but stern. She must have picked him up. “I won’t hear anything more about it, either. You need some good, solid rest. I will put you up in Frisk’s room, where it’s nice and quiet, all right?”

“I’m not even  _tired,_ ” he tried. “I’m just resting my eyes.”

“I am sure you are. You’ve had a long day.”

She felt so warm and soft in a way he knew, from so long ago. Normally it would have jarred him out of this, but it was too inviting, and he only burrowed deeper into her fur. Later on, he would be embarrassed, but right now he felt nothing except exhaustion. He yawned without any care at all.

“I’ve had  _lots_ of long days,” he confided in her.

“Oh, yes. I can only imagine…”

“Can’t imagine why you’d care.”

“I suppose you just look so innocent,” she said. “It intrigues me… I don’t think it’s all bad in there, do you?”

“If you’re trying to,” he yawned. “If you’re trying to change me, _don’t._ We’ve already done this.”

“Have we?”

“Mmhm.”

“Well, then,” she said gently as she set him on the windowsill. “We will just have to try again, won’t we?”

“No, please,” he moaned. “You don’t _understand…_ ”

But the sleep came, and it was dreamless.

(She was right about being a nice pillow, at least.)

When he woke again, he was staring right into a pair of eyes in the darkness.

He screamed. They screamed.

“Back off,” he snarled, his voice still groggy. “I can mangle you beyond recognition if I want to--”

“What? No, no, no,” came the voice. “Flowey, it’s me! Alphys.”

He blinked, his eyes adjusting to the darkness all around. He could tell now. There she was in her dweeby pair of glasses, staring him down like it was her creepy job to do it. “Oh,” he muttered, face embarrassed and tone angry. “What the hell are you startling me like _that_ for? Sheesh.”

“I was trying _really_ hard not to,” she whispered. “You’ve been out like a light. I couldn’t get you to wake up.”

“Ugh, _really?_ ” He took a look around the room, disoriented, and found Frisk in their sleeping bag on the floor. “Wow. I must’ve slept for a long time. That’s not good.”

“Yeah,” she confirmed. “Don’t worry, though. Toriel kept everyone out of here.”

“Except you,” he said flatly.

“Except me,” she agreed, her face flushed. “But well, um, in my defense it is my house. And I’m not as loud as Undyne. And I needed to get in here for, well, reasons.”

“Reasons?” He tilted his head to the side, narrowing his eyes suspiciously. “What _reasons_ are those, Dr. Alphys? Did you just want to see how I sleep? Told you I did it.”

“W-Well, um,” she stammered quietly, “not exactly. I-I mean, I was curious--”

“Oh my _god,_ you snuck in here just to watch me _sleep!_ You’re sick.”

“No,” she hissed. “Keep it down. Frisk’s sleeping.”

“You haven’t answered my question.”

“W-Well, it was just for…” She wrung her hands uncomfortably. “You know. Things.”

“Things? Like… like what we talked about things?”

“Y-Yeah. I needed one of your p-petals, so I kind of…”

“What?” He tried to take a glance upward. “Wow, you _didn’t!_ You actually plucked one of my _petals_ off? I didn’t even give you permission! You’re _awful!!_ ”

“I-I know, but listen--”

“Wait a second.” He blinked. “How the fuck did I sleep through that?”

“I have no idea. It was pretty surprising, actually.”

“Gosh,” he whispered. “You’re just lucky it’s going to grow _back._ What do you need it for, anyways? Wait, did you drug me with some kind of sleeping chemicals?”

“What? _No!!_ ”

“...Are you _sure?_ ”

“P-Positive! I’d never do something like that! How would I even live with myself? Or accomplish it at all? That’s just _horrible!_ ” She was getting worked up.

He laughed. “Okay, I believe you. But wh--”

“I’m _trying_ to get to that,” she sputtered. “Honest. L-Look, so in order to fix what happened to you, a-and what made it so miserable…” She took another deep breath in. “We… ...we would have to see wh-what makes it that way, right? And we know you don’t have a SOUL, right? So… ...so it’s natural to assume that’s what makes it that way.”

“Well, _duh._ I don’t need an analysis of my petals to figure _that_ out, Dr. Alphys. You really are _such_ a _bad--_ ”

“--scientist, right, I get it,” she babbled. “And I probably am, but listen. I-In Mew Mew Kissy Cutie, there was this one episode where she _thought_ she got her cat ears in a freak accident, right? And she, um, totally carries all these hidden and deep dark emotions about it, b-because she assumes that it, well, basically makes her a different person, an-and so--”

“Get to the point _without_ the cat ears, please.”

“No, wait!” She protested to his surprise. “I-I’m getting there. So anyway, like, um, all the previous seasons we’ve totally th-thought that Mew Mew was just, well, forever _changed!_ And _that’s_ why she felt so u-uncomfortable with her ears, because--”

“ _Uuuuuugh._ ”

“--because it fundamentally changed who she was, accident or _not,_ from before! A-and she just assumed that, um, because of her cat ears not t-typically found on humans, she could _never_ lead a normal life again, s-so in this episode especially, you feel really _bad_ for her. Well, not you, I know you probably wouldn’t, but um--”

“Uuuuuugh…!!”

“Right, sorry. So she spends this whole, well, _super dramatic character arc_ after that trying to find out who’s responsible for her freak accident! It was actually kind of dark for the series, I kind of thought they might’ve gone overboard after this, but um. So anyway, _then_ we find out that--”

“‘Friendship saves the day?’” He mocked, giggling and looking as stupid as possible. “Yeah, I know how _all_ these things go. Stupid friendship.”

“ _No!!_ ” She answered a little too adamantly, flailing. “But that’s _exactly where I thought they were going with this!!_ ”

“Shut up,” he growled. “Frisk is sleeping, remember?” He didn’t care.

“Oh, yeah,” she murmured. “Sorry.” She did. “So anyway, th-the point is, we find out after _all_ this searching and stuff--with the help of her friends, I guess--th-that there never _was_ an accident!”

“...What? How does that even make sense?”

“Right? My mind was so _blown,_ and I almost swore off it altogether. But um, see, Mew Mew just _thought_ it was an accident because she had amnesia of her whole life before the beginning of the series! She just a-assumed that someone terrible did this to her, or th-that she was changed this way, but she finds out that _she was born with cat ears all along_ and it’s um, really moving and beautiful, the stylistic choices and the music in--”

“I care less and less about this every second, Alphys.”

“That’s what I’m saying,” she elaborated. It was of no use to him. “D-Don’t you get it? _You’re_ Mew Mew.”

“I…” He trailed off. “I’m so _insulted_ right now. That’s the worst comparison anyone’s ever made.”

“N-no, listen! You’re Mew Mew! I always thought that _I_ was Mew Mew, I mean, I totally identify with her and Undyne says she can see the resemblance, b-but I don’t know if she’s just saying that or she really means it.” Good lord, she was blushing again. “But well, it doesn’t matter, b-because I’m not Mew Mew! _You_ are. D-Don’t you see?”

“...Not yet. Are you just here to waste my time, or…?”

“N-Not at all,” she said. “I just thought you’d be more excited, but um. I can see how someone who isn’t really a fan wouldn’t get it.”

“...Do you? Do you _really_ see?”

“Yeah, but the point is, um… ...what if your SOUL is like Mew Mew’s ears?”

“...Then I’m glad I… ...don’t have it anymore? You’re really losing me.”

“No! I mean, what if we’ve been looking for the terrible cause of… ...of your lack of a SOUL this whole time, right? A-and we always thought it was me.”

He narrowed his eyes even more. “It _was_ you.”

“I know,” she said. “I know, you don’t get what I’m saying.”

“Obviously _not._ ”

“But what if we’ve been, um, looking at it _wrong,_ you know? Like Mew Mew? What if we can’t fix it the way we’ve been trying or thinking about or whatever, because we’re wrong? What if you’re _not_ miserable because you have no SOUL?”

“...That’s stupid. You watch too many human animes, Alphys.”

“ _Do_ I? I mean, yeah, I do, but _is_ it? I mean, think about it, As--Flowey,” she trembled. “Just _think_ about this. All I did was inject a flower with determination.”

“ _All_ you did?” He hissed. “I’m sorry, is that _all?_ You’re right, I’ve been blowing this way out of _proportion!_ ”

“Can you just _listen?_ It could’ve been any flower.”

“Yeah, and then someone else would have to _listen to you,_ ” he sneered. “Boy, aren’t I lucky!”

“But it wasn’t, Flowey. It was you. It was you, or you wouldn’t have come b-back this way. It was _you,_ and that’s why _you_ woke up in the garden. Why would that happen?”

“I don’t know,” he spat. “Why _would_ it? Why would you ruin my life like that, Alphys? Why?”

“Doesn’t it seem, I don’t know, really weird to you,” she continued on, “that it was _you?_ That _you specifically came back_ without a SOUL? How did you do that?”

“I don’t _know!_ ”

“Your ashes, when you died,” she said. “They were all over the flower. They’re obviously what brought you back, right? And the determination.”

“Yeah, but I still don’t--”

“ _You._ They brought you, Asriel Dreemurr, back from the dead. Right?”

“Right, but I don’t--”

“Why would they do that,” she rambled on, “if you didn’t have a SOUL?”

“...Huh?” He saw where she was going with this. He was caught off-guard anyway.

“How could the ashes on the flower bring _you_ back,” she said again, patiently, “if they weren’t any kind of SOUL fragments? Of _you?_ Wouldn’t it be weirder if you were just you for no reason?”

“But flowers don’t _have--_ ”

“You’re _right!_ ” She agreed enthusiastically. “You’re absolutely right! You’ve been saying it and saying it, and I didn’t listen. Flowers don’t need sleep. Flowers don’t have SOULs. But _you_ do sleep. And drink coffee. And eat too, probably. Why?”

“Uh.” Now he was at a loss. “I don’t know.”

“Because, because, Flowey! It’s so obvious! You’re _not_ a normal flower. But you’re not just… ...uh, _not_ a normal flower. You’re not a normal flower, and you do all the stuff monsters need to do still. All the basic needs we need, you probably need too. But why would it manifest that way, if you were _so_ different from us, huh?”

“Well, I mean. Uh.”

“Do you understand, Flowey? I think you’ve had pieces of a SOUL all along.”

“What?” He stared at her, dazed. “No. I mean, no! _No._ That’s not how it _works._ A monster’s SOUL--”

“--doesn’t survive after death, I get it. So _you_ shouldn’t have, right?”

“Well, but,” he argued, sputtering now. “When I died on the flowerbed--”

“--you turned to dust. I get that, too. So your body’s totally gone. We know that already. But again, what _happens_ to that when a monster dies? It gets spread on their favorite thing. What was your favorite thing?”

“I mean, it,” he tried again, looking angry. “No!”

“The flowers, right? And why do we spread that on their favorite thing? So that their essence may _live on forever in that_ \--”

“ _No!!_ ” He screamed. “No. No, no, _NO!!_ ”

“Flowey,” Alphys whispered. “Frisk is--”

“I don’t give a single  _fuck_ ,” he howled. “No!! _NO!!_ You’re _wrong._ I have no SOUL! That’s just how it goes, and you’re a _shitty fucking scientist_ if you think anything else is true! No!”

“Um, yikes,” she said mostly to herself. “You’re not really taking this how I expected--”

“Well, you’re wrong and your scientific theories are _garbage,_ so how _else_ am I supposed to--”

“Okay, but hang on a second Flowey, because um, I thought you’d be glad to hear this next part, but now I--”

“There’s _more_ ?” He laughed hysterically. He saw Frisk stir out of the corner of his eye and barely cared. “Well, holy _fuck-a-doodle-doo,_ Dr. Alphys! What other outrageous scientific _bullshit_ do you have in store for us today??”

“I--I don’t know if I should say. Do you… do you need a minute? Because I can give you a minute, if you--oh, um. Hey, Frisk. Sorry we woke you.”

“No, we’re fucking _not,_ Frisk.” He was frothing at the mouth. “What is it, Alphys? What else _is_ there? It doesn’t matter, because you’re wrong and _terrible_ like always.”

“Look, if you’re upset--”

“I’m _fine!!_ It doesn’t affect me! Because it’s wrong anyways, so go ahead.”

“I _really_ don’t know if I should--”

“Frisk, would you just tell this goddamn incompetent lizard to hurry the fuck up and spit it out so I can get on with my life? _Please?_ ” He wasn’t even paying attention to what they were doing. Not yet. Strangely, he found himself shaking.

“Okay, well I um, I was going to say, I analyzed the petal.”

“No _shit_.”

“Yeah, and um, what I found was that, well,” she wouldn’t meet his gaze. “I was… I was _right,_ Flowey. You _do_ have a SOUL.”

“HAH!! Who even _trusts_ you enough to--”

“I mean, well. Sort of. It’s just not quite, um… ... _enough_ of you.”

“What the fuck is _that_ supposed to mean?”

“I mean, um,” Alphys stammered. “Now I’m nervous. Um. I guess what went into the flower to make you, it um… ...it wasn’t… I mean, can you think of anywhere _else_ your parents might have thought it should go? Did you have any other favorite things, things you really liked to--”

“You just want me to relive it,” he growled without thinking. “Every terrible moment, everything I lost, because you _like_ that I lost it and you think it’s _interesting_ \--”

“No! I’m trying to help, because I think it’s _awful,_ Flowey. I’m  _sad_ for you.”

He stopped. “...What?”

“It makes me really sad, Flowey. I feel  _bad_ for you, okay? I feel _bad_ that you died the horrible way you did, and I feel even _worse_ that you came back and it was partially my fault. You’re just a kid, and that makes me so sad. You didn’t _deserve_ this.”

He had nothing to say in response.

“So I want to help. I want to figure out why you think you can’t care. I want to figure out what makes you like this. I want to figure out where we all went wrong, so I can _fix_ it, okay? I want to make it better. Not worse. For once. It’s… ...it’s the least I can do.”

“I don’t need your _pity,_ ” he tried. His voice cracked.

Alphys sighed, and he saw then that her eyes were still tired. She hadn’t slept after all. “You probably don’t. In fact, that’s probably the last thing you want. But I just want a chance to do good, like everyone else. And I still can’t make you anything like Mettaton’s body, because um, you know. You don’t have a full SOUL. But I think you have enough that we could… I don’t know…” She trailed off again. “We could do _something_ about it.”

“I don’t,” he repeated, voice still cracking. “I really don’t need _anything._ I’m good.”

“Can you at least do me a favor and think about it?” She gave him a smile, and it was so terribly pathetic and sad. “You don’t have to decide right now. It’s a lot right now. So just think about it, okay? I think I can find a way, and I think it’ll be way easier than we thought, since… ...yeah. I… I think we can try something, especially now, but I understand if you don't want to anymore.”

“Just go away,” he finally managed. “That would be great right now. If you left.” Nonetheless, he flashed a pleasant smile, all pearly whites he shouldn’t have had. All proof that he wasn’t really just a flower, was he?

“Okay. I… I’ve definitely overstayed my welcome, huh? So I’ll go. But just, um, just know that we all want you to be happy.”

“Gross,” he said. His voice was weak.

“Goodnight, Flowey. Oh, and um, goodnight, Frisk! Sorry again.”

He didn’t look at Frisk until she left. When he did, they were staring at him so thoughtfully, he almost felt uncomfortable. It was clear they were tired, but something else was on their mind now. “What are _you_ looking at?”

They just kept staring, in that horrible Frisk way. Their eyes were almost unblinking, and so calm against the darkness. He could see some kind of wheels turning behind those eyes, and it was so unsettling. He wished they would stop it. He wished they would just speak up once in awhile. He wished they were more like Chara, sometimes.

Didn’t he? Or was that what they looked like when they did this?

“What, Frisk?” He asked again. He was annoyed now, and he tilted his head to the side. “What _is_ it? You _know_ I can’t know what you’re thinking unless you--”

Yep, there it was. They picked him up, and he sighed.

“Lead the way, then, I guess.”

They did, and too happily, especially for someone who’d been stirred from sleep again at this hour. But that was just Frisk, too good at adjusting to odd situations for anyone’s comfort. He wondered why they weren’t making more noise, and spied a pair of white dog slippers on their feet. Come to think of it, he’d never thought about Frisk actually wearing pajamas before. They must have.

“Did Toriel buy those for you at that ridiculous human shop?”

Frisk nodded, and Flowey scoffed. “Figures.”

They nodded again. He could see now that they were wearing some kind of blue and purple-striped bottoms and a top, too, probably loose and comfortable. He wondered what it felt like to own pajamas. He couldn’t even really remember and told himself that it didn’t matter and he didn’t care.

He was in deep thought about this when they arrived back in the kitchen. Just like before, it was darker. Just like before, he noticed the knives glinting in the distance and the red glow of the hot fridge. Just like before, it reminded him of something else, and he didn’t particularly feel like revisiting any of the memories. Especially not now. Especially not like this.

“What are we doing, Frisk?” He whispered. “You’re not gonna make me stay out here again, are you?”

They shook their head, then stood on tiptoes to set him on the table. He watched as they went over to examine the countertops, clearly looking for something. After a moment, he heard some obnoxious and loud rustling. “Frisk, why do you _always_ \--”

Frisk put a finger to their lips again. When they produced both of the candies they’d purchased earlier, their flower friend shut up. It was so typical of them to go over to his side and open the packet of popping candy first, though, and they set it down in front of him with a large grin.

He blinked. “...Okay, so what do I do now? I don’t have arms, genius.”

To their credit, this seemed to occur to them as well, and they held the candy up and poured too much of it into his mouth without any second thought. He wasn’t quite expecting this and sputtered in shock as he nearly spat some of it up. “Frisk,” he started, coughing slightly, “what in the actual _hell_ \--”

And paused.

Something was going on in his mouth.

“Huh?” He tried after a second, sticking out his tongue. “What’s--”

It crackled. He almost couldn’t focus on the actual taste, so sweet he had no frame of reference.

“What _is_ this, Frisk,” he tried, and his tongue crackled some more. “Is this the candy?”

Their head bobbed up and down with excitement, and they went about unwrapping the butterscotch candy. He wanted to laugh at just how precise they were about it, sticking their tongue out and focusing in like it was some complex situation, but he was too weirded out by the continuing crackling in his mouth. He watched, still, as they inspected it and popped into their mouth, smiling with satisfaction.

“When does it stop? Will it ever?” He didn’t know if he wanted it to or not, but he had to ask. Frisk shrugged, then nodded again, savoring their own piece of sugar. It was clear they didn’t prefer cinnamon the way he did (this made them wrong, obviously).

When it finally did fizzle out, Frisk was still wearing their candy down with spit. He watched them fiddle with it with their tongue. “Wow,” he said, almost at a loss for words. After a moment, he decided he liked it. “Is there anymore? Can I do this ag--”

More candy practically dumped into his mouth. More hacking some of it up.

“ _Frisk,_ you idiot!” But it was so sweet, and it felt so strange. “I like this.”

From across the table, Frisk gave a thumbs up.

“Are you sure it’s not a weapon?”

Thumbs down.

“Aw. Humans just don’t know how to have real _fun,_ do they?”

Shrug.

Moments ticked by. The hot fridge hummed, as it usually did. They sat in the dark filling themselves up with sugar, and Flowey vaguely hoped that none of this was like the coffee. It didn’t seem to be, but you never could tell. Frisk was drumming their fingers nonchalantly against the table now, and silence filled the room.

It gave him too much time to think about everything.

“Can you _believe_ Alphys?” He laughed.

As usual, there was a silence on Frisk’s end of the table.

“Hmph. Of course _you_ can. You want everything to have a SOUL like you, don’t you?”

Again, all they could do was shrug.

“Well, not everything _does,_ Frisk. This table doesn’t have a SOUL. That candy doesn’t have a SOUL.” He paused for a moment. “Flowers don’t have a SOUL. That includes _me._ The sooner you learn that, the better.”

They were just staring at him from across the table, sucking on their stupid candy. He saw the way their eyes took absolutely everything in, the way nothing got past their personal filter at all and was even more unnerved by it. Everyone around him was an idiot, that was without question; in a sea of stupidity, Frisk still stood out. They paid actual attention to him, not just half attention or inattention, but _really_ understood what he was trying to say. Their eyes were so curious. He fidgeted.

“Look, Frisk, I’ve told you so many times,” he said after a moment. “In this world, it’s kill or be killed, right? Good people _die._ They’re _killed._ And if that’s the truth, then there’s no _way_ I can have a SOUL.”

They tilted their head to the side curiously.

“Because, stupid,” he spat. “Nothing with a SOUL could do what I’ve done.”

Their head remained tilted.

“Well, you couldn’t, _could_ you?” He grumbled, irritated now. “You _didn’t._ That was the whole point.”

It was clear they weren’t buying it.

“And you had so many opportunities, too,” he babbled. “Soooo many times when you could have slaughtered them all! I was so sure you’d cave, at _least._ But you didn’t, Frisk. RESET after RESET. Death after death. You endured it all, the same dialogue, the same situations, _over and over again,_ just like me! But you didn’t kill anyone at all. I was watching.”

Now they were really listening, propping their face up against their elbow. Their eyes were so alert for the time it was, and he really resented it. Nevertheless, they looked so inviting. He almost couldn’t help but keep going. “Do you know how many times I killed you?” He asked, nearly cackling. The crackling had faded from his mouth.

They thought about it, then held up ten fingers.

“No, Frisk,” he said. “It was _so much more_ than that. I _promise._ ”

They had nothing to say to this.

“I watched you _die,_ and _die,_ and _die,_ ” he sang. “Over and over and _over_ again, Frisk. And I kept count.” His voice was rising to a delirious pitch, and he was pleased to find the human child tensing up at the sound of it. “I kept track of how many times I watched you bleed. It was even kind of _fun,_ you know?”

He thought maybe, if they could, they’d go for the stick. They didn’t move.

“I really _enjoyed_ it,” he sighed, wistfully. “We could’ve stayed like that _forever_ …”

Frisk shook their head uncertainly, nearly swallowing the butterscotch candy.

“Oh, I know,” he conceded after a moment. “I know what that goat told you, huh? He just didn’t want you to leave because you reminded him of Chara.” He stuck his tongue out in disgust. “For _some_ reason. But I’m not like that, Frisk. I don’t care about Chara at all! You were a lot of fun all by yourself.”

He found that they still had no response.

“But see, Frisk,” he continued on anyways. “If I still had a SOUL-- _his_ SOUL--would I disagree with him?”

More shrugging.

“Oh, you’re no _help,_ ” he dismissed. “Not that I need any. But if I still had a SOUL, I’d probably at least _like_ it. The candy, and the jokes, and the parents and the friends… I’d like them all, wouldn’t I? Too much to hurt them.” He glared at his reflection in the darkness, the glow of the hot fridge illuminating it again. “Too much to hurt _you._ ”

It was like talking to a brick wall, stoic and unmoving.

“But I _did_ hurt you, Frisk. So much. And he wouldn’t have. I… I _know_ he wouldn’t have if he felt like himself.” He just kept staring at his own reflection, just like in the puddle in his dream. It looked just as muddy and confusing then, in the haze of his subconscious. “I _felt_ that. He really _cared_ about you. He really cared about _everything._ ”

He couldn’t tell what they were doing anymore.

“Stupid goat cared _so much,_ Frisk. Too much, I think. For him, for me. For anybody.”

He could feel their eyes on him without looking. He was getting good at that.

“And that _wasn’t_ my fault,” he insisted. “It _wasn’t._ He got _himself_ killed. He didn’t _listen._ ”

Silence.

“If he’d just _listened_ ,” Flowey tried. The more he stared at his reflection, the more distorted it seemed, unreal and horrifying. He didn’t know if he liked it. “If he’d just _listened_ to Chara, I--we--this wouldn’t have happened… If he’d just listened to Chara, I _know_ it would’ve been so different--”

He froze.

Frisk was trying to hug him.

“What are you doing?” He asked. It came out like a distant question.

They paid him no mind, pulling him softly to their chest and keeping him there. What might have been tears were forming in their eyes now, and it was so embarrassing he almost couldn’t look, bewildered as he was to be crushed like this again.

“Not _again,_ Frisk,” he sighed. “I’m so sick of explaining this to you. He’s dead. Don’t try anything, okay?”

As usual, they paid him no mind, squishing him with all the care they had in their tiny little body. It was nauseating.

“Why don’t _you_ ever listen,” he wondered, even pressed up against their sweater. “You should know better than anyone. You met him. You know this is for _him._ It isn’t mine, it isn’t. It’s not--”

“No,” said Frisk, so soft.

He was so surprised he nearly jumped.

“This is yours.”

“Fine,” he murmured in surprise. “I guess I’ll take it, then. For now.”

He did. After the moment passed, he felt even worse than before, and he recoiled as though Frisk had bit him. “Just get _away_ from me now, okay? You’re so stubborn.” He hissed, and he hoped the hot fridge made him look horrifying. “And don’t make this a habit. I hate hugs.”

They made an “okay” sign with their fingers and pulled away. He watched as they went back over to their side of the table to sit and continue savoring the candy, looking nothing short of content, and he could hardly stand it.

“You know,” he said, “I’m _glad_ you don’t talk that often. Your voice is _annoying._ ”

They laughed a little. He frowned.

“That’s not the right reaction, Frisk.”

They shrugged.

“Why _don’t_ you, anyway? Even Shyren makes more noise than you, and you’re not even shy!”

It was an innocent inquiry, but he saw the way their face changed from peaceful to something almost troubled. Most people would’ve seen the look on their face and dropped it, knowing that they were uncomfortable, and moved on. Flowey was not most people. He barely even considered himself a person.

With a wide grin, he persisted. “I don’t know,” he lilted. “I just think it’s so strange! Everyone I’ve ever known talks more than you. Toriel gave you a phone, and you don’t even say anything to _her_ most of the time. There’s a reason for that, _right?_ ”

Frisk was squirming. He felt actual delight.

“No one goes silent for no reason, Frisk,” he said. “People are almost always _silenced._ So what did that to _you?"_

He watched as their fingers fiddled with the fabric of their sweater. Normally he would’ve expected a stoic straight face in a situation like this; after all, Frisk was the sort of human who could face near-certain death with an unflinching amount of perseverance. He’d glared down at this kid as a towering monster more than once and they’d expressed a straight face at most every single time, no matter how many times they got hit or even died. Sometimes they smiled, even. And yet, in the face of this question, they looked more uncomfortable than he had ever seen them before.

It was amazing, and he intended to milk this for all it was worth.

“Is it a _what_ at all, Frisk?” He asked, keeping his tone demure. “Or could it be something else?”

There was no response from them, but he saw the way they nearly swallowed the candy whole. This was the closest thing to joy he could probably ever experience (or at least that’s what he told himself). Either way, it didn’t matter. He could nearly forget about his own misery, as long as he got to watch the blatant misery of someone else.

“Could it be more of a ‘ _who?_ ’” He wondered aloud, paying careful attention to the nervous and busy movement of Frisk’s fingers. It was almost like they were trying to comfort themselves, and he wanted to know whether or not they’d try to make a grab for the stick, wherever it was.

The movement stopped. They froze this time.

He giggled. “Yeah, that’s it, isn’t it? Somebody did this to you.”

They weren’t even looking at him now, something so different for them. They weren’t paying the careful and close attention they usually did, eyes focused instead on the tabletop. He could see that they were biting their lip, maybe to keep from crying. This was very different, actually.

“Why _else_ would you be so nice, anyways? I should’ve figured that you were compensating for _something._ It’s been so obvious this whole time!” Part of him was actually putting the puzzle pieces together, and he stared at Frisk with the same concentration Frisk would’ve given him. It was so interesting to see how the tables had turned. “You’ve just always seemed so perfect. But you’re not, are you?”

No response from them, but their eyes were far away. Flowey knew what happened when people got like that. They were usually somewhere else, some place far away, reliving some kind of miserable moment of their own. It gave him a kind of terrible satisfaction, knowing that right then Frisk was reliving something terrible _too,_ and all pressure was off of him.

More than the glee, though, Flowey just felt interested. It was something brand new that he’d never seen. Not when he’d killed Frisk the first time, not when he’d killed Frisk the tenth time, and _certainly_ not when he’d killed Frisk beyond that. This was a side of Frisk he’d never managed to prod out of them, no matter what aggravating things he’d done, and he almost didn’t want it to end.

Almost.

Some other part of him _knew,_ deep down, that when _he_ was reliving things Frisk was...

...well, they were…

No. It wasn’t his fault that they took pity. That was _their_ flaw, after all.

“You’re not perfect at all,” Flowey mused, “because perfect people don’t get hurt like that, do they?”

When he was startled out of his thoughts by the sound of a chair against the floor, he nearly jumped. He hadn’t been expecting it all, but he watched Frisk chew the rest of their candy to swallowable bits, hopping down from the table.

“Okay, _fine,_ ” Flowey sighed. “Where are we going _now?_ ”

They just had to push the chair back in first, despite it being so much bigger than them. Flowey scoffed and rolled his eyes. It was just like Frisk to do some meaningless and thoughtful task like that first, but whatever. He was getting used to it now and waited patiently for Frisk to pick him back up and take him back to their stupid room or something to listen to them snore for the next few hours.

No such thing happened. They were walking away.

“...Frisk? Where are you going?”

No response as they continued out of the room, stupid dog slippers making no noise at all.

“Frisk? Don’t tell me you’re actually _running away!_ Boy, that’s rich!”

They gave no indication that they heard him at all.

“Frisk, you’re so _sensitive!_ Come on, you honestly expect me to believe that just because what I was saying is _true,_ you’re just going to leave me out--”

He listened to a door being shut, a little louder than normal.

“--here?”

Flowey blinked.

“Well, _good,_ ” he hissed emphatically at nothing.

After a while of staring at the other end of a table, he had to accept that they weren’t coming back. He glared at his own reflection, sick of the stupid redness that the useless hot fridge was giving off, and sick of the silence. The only thing he could think to do was practice making faces, but even that was boring, because he was so good at it by now.

Unbelievably, the packet of popping candy was right in front of him, just barely out of his reach. He tried to lean over to grab it with his teeth, grunting and straining at the effort of it, but could never quite reach it. Instead, he just had to _know_ that it was there, not even empty yet and reachable only with help, and he hated it just as much as he hated everything else.

“I can’t believe they just _left_ like that,” Flowey complained to the darkness.

The darkness listened sympathetically.

“I was just telling the _truth._ That’s all I _ever_ do! But no one wants to hear it.”

The hot fridge agreed, too.

“I just thought they were _better_ than that,” he rambled. “But that’s the problem with things with SOULs, I guess. They’re all so _touchy,_ and they feel so _much!_ Good thing _I_ don’t have to deal with that.”

His reflection, as usual, agreed with everything.

“Hah, yeah,” he said back at himself, and he found that his voice was soft. “What a nightmare that would be, huh?”

Eventually, as always, he found that there was nothing left to say.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading as always! It means a lot to have everyone's support.

**Author's Note:**

> Well, I've never used this website before, so it's safe to say I am nervous as all actual hell, but uh... hopefully this can be enjoyed by somebody! I've been working on this for awhile, but I'm not finished yet, and I may space some updates out. I guess we'll have to see. Thanks for taking the time to read. Did I do this note thing right?? Who knows.


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